


Fuji (Wisteria)

by saberteeth, witchoil



Series: Essence of a Flower Bloom [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Bad Sex, Canon Disabled Character, Cissexism, Consensual Infidelity, Dysfunctional Relationships, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Gay Male Character, Homophobia, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, Lesbian Character, M/M, Masturbation, Sexuality Crisis, Some Naruto Bashing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, lavender marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-25 19:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17127422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saberteeth/pseuds/saberteeth, https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchoil/pseuds/witchoil
Summary: Sakura’s mother had always told her that marriage was complicated. As she saw it, hers was fairly simple: her husband loved men – one man, particularly – and she loved women. And no amount of death or war or slow reconciliation could make them something other than what they were. It was the sole point of tenderness between them, like the tenderness a grain of sand produces inside an oyster. Raw and inescapable.SakuHina, NaruSasu - Lavender Marriage & Infidelity





	1. Sakura

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to our fic! If you're here because of Dog Named Boo, we're sorry! This is nothing like that, lol. 
> 
> Some ground rules:  
> 1\. This fic is by adults FOR adults. Canon timeline says the gang is all around 20 or 22, but they act pretty much like 25 year olds bc they're war veterans and I mostly find Kishimoto's timelines to be wack anyways. This fic deals with mature themes like infidelity, in-world homophobia, marriage, and the pressure to procreate. Much of the sex that happens in this work is BAD - characters frequently engage in sex as a coping mechanism and a form of self-medication. Readers who are not ready for this kind of content should move along. Comments are not currently moderated but we reserve the right to begin doing so if we have any issues with flames. However, we really hope you'll share your thoughts with us as you read. 
> 
> 2\. Neither of us have watched Shippuden in its entirety, as doing so would be a violation of our therapy-mandated self-care regimens. But we read the wiki on The Last and had some THINGS to say. 
> 
> 3\. This work includes some casually cissexist language here and there. This language does not reflect the beliefs of the (non-binary) authors, but it felt dishonest and performative to have characters in an openly homophobic world be educated on the nuances of gender essentialism. 
> 
> 4\. Posting schedule will be every three days! So chapter 1 today, ch. 2 on 12/26, ch. 3 on 12/29, and ch. 4 on 1/1. Chapters 5, 6, and 7 are short and will likely be published simultaneously or in groups. 
> 
> 4\. For good measure: WE STRONGLY DISSUADE MINORS FROM ENGAGING WITH THIS FIC. While the subject matter is not particularly violent or "dark" it is certainly mature and the Explicit tag is used for a reason. Please take responsibility for your own experience and respect our wishes as creators. Don't read unless you've read the warnings and researched ones you're unsure of! 
> 
> Thank you!

**Part I:**

**藤**

**(Wisteria)**

 

 

> "A marriage is a private thing. It has its own wild laws, and secret histories, and savage acts, and what passes between married people is incomprehensible to outsiders. We look terrible to you...but what we carry between us is hard-won, and we made it just as we wished it to be, just the color, just the shape."

               - Catherine M. Valente, Deathless

 

 

 

 

> "So please, hurry, leave me, I can't breathe
> 
> Please don't say you love me
> 
> 胸がはち切れそうで"

               - Mitski, "First Love / Late Spring"

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 1: Sakura**

 

The sunlight at this time of day filters through Sakura’s garden perfectly. She watches it out the window as it lays gentle golden fingers across soft purple petals and draws out the sheen of waxy leaves. She has been tending to the flowers that climb the trellis outside her window since she was thirteen years old, watched them as they outgrew their pot and began to cling to the jamb of her bedroom window. They refused to bloom the first spring after she married in the wake of a traumatic transplanting, but now, nearly two years on, they are finally flowering. And early, seeing as it is only the first day of spring.

Now, a flower twists in a breeze that Sakura can’t feel. She concentrates on that not-feeling as much as she concentrates on the sound of her husband above her, weakly thrusting himself into her. It’s so mechanical that it’s easy to do. They breathe like shinobi do: perfectly in sync and perfectly silent. So much so that if Sakura closes her eyes she can pretend she is alone everywhere except inside.

But they’d agreed a long time ago that they’d try when they could, so here they are. Uchiha Sasuke jerks his hips like he is righting a rucksack on his back, over and over, until he either comes or loses his hard-on for the third time this afternoon. Sakura sighs and like clockwork, he starts to go soft again. Sasuke stumbles back, pulling out of her, and wraps his only, long-fingered hand around his cock. Sakura regards the hand and the cock with the same clinical disinterest as she does a superficial laceration or a particularly beautiful patient’s tongue.

The look of frustrated concentration on his face is exquisite and miserable as he tries to jerk himself off at the same time that he tries to shove his cock back inside of her, his one black eye sawing back and forth between where the two of them are attempting to join and the wall behind their bed. His mouth is a hard line beneath his sharp nose.

“Too dry,” he says.

And he’s correct. She hasn’t been wet for him since they’ve been married, maybe not even since she was a teenager. Sometimes she tries, but after this afternoon, after delivering two babies and tending to a child already missing an eye, it’s too much for him to ask. He’s also not asking.

“Too soft,” she says back, eyes flickering away from his cold, pale face. Back out the window, to the wisteria.

When she was younger, she was always imagining how it would look curling around the entrance way of her and Sasuke’s house. Now, she sighs in relief as he pulls away for the last time and begins wrapping himself back into his haori.

He rolls the collar back up over his shoulders, using his teeth when necessary, and keeps the tension on his left side with what remains of his arm while making a messy knot with the right. He is as efficient about dressing now as she remembers him being with cleaning his weapons as a child.

Sakura used to find this lack of passion in him alluring, when she was too stupid to understand why. Now it’s mostly a relief.

They know what they are: two outcasts living in a house together, doing a favor for one another. Naruto would have been heartbroken if they hadn’t married after he proposed to Hinata. It didn’t matter to him that the only person Sasuke had ever been even remotely marriage-interested in had been him, or that Sakura had stopped talking about Sasuke that way long before the shinobi war began. Someone had to welcome Sasuke home, give him a legitimate place in the village, and help him begin the work of rebuilding his clan. At least nominally.

Whether the clan could be rebuilt at all remained to be seen. Although they had agreed upon their marriage that they should try for children, and had never decided to stop after she learned of his affair with Naruto, Sakura could count on her hands the number of times his semen had been inside of her.

Sakura’s mother had always told her that marriage was complicated. As she saw it, hers was fairly simple: her husband loved men – one man, particularly – and she loved women. And no amount of death or war or slow reconciliation could make them something other than what they were. It was the sole point of tenderness between them, like the tenderness a grain of sand produces inside an oyster. Raw and inescapable.

So however masochistic the ritual seems, they persist with it. They love each other, in their way, and they do both want a family, someday. But the work of it disgusts them and remains futile. Sakura has never had a late period since they married, or a single fleeting moment in which she thought _maybe this time —_

Sometimes it feels like her body is being deliberately hostile to him, to the very idea of bearing his child. _But why shouldn’t it be?_ Sakura thinks as she lays back on the bed and Sasuke retreats to the common areas of the house. _His body is hostile to mine, too_.

Once her pulse quiets, Sakura cleans and dresses herself efficiently, donning a practical outfit to go beneath her white lab coat. It’s easier to try in the morning when they both know they won’t have to see each other much after.

It also makes it easier for Sakura to go downstairs and prepare them both breakfast before Sasuke can beat her to it. He won’t join her while she eats – he’s too busy bathing and laundering and pulling his mind back out of the lacquered black box he puts it in when they have sex – but he’ll eat later, hopefully while it’s still warm. To that end, Sakura retrieves two bowls for him, one for the soup and the other for the rice, but leaves the food in their pots.

She notes with bitter amusement that it is somehow easier to be kind to him after they’ve laid together, when they are both most wounded. She’s always felt strongest when she’s healing someone. Perhaps that’s another reason she prefers to do this right before going to the hospital.

She calls out a goodbye as she goes and shuts the door hard behind her.

 

* * *

 

Ino is a welcome distraction after a tiring day of administering fluids to a group of flu-addled jounin and dealing with incompetent apprentices. Had she been this annoying when she was studying under Tsunade? She resolves to never ask the older woman, shaking her head at herself as she walks to the front desk where she has been called.

The trouble with jounin is that none of them ever seem to think that they need the hospital, and spend all day trying to refuse any treatment Sakura prescribes them. In the time they spend complaining, they can normally be healed. Ridiculous.

She sees a familiar head of blonde hair and purple fabric as she rounds the corner, and Ino is leaning against the front desk, chatting amicably with the receptionist.

“Doctor Uchiha, Yamanaka-san is here to see you,” she says, gesturing to Ino, who straightens up and holds out her arms.

“Ino-chan,” she greets, hugging her friend at the desk. “Something bring you here or you just miss me?”

“I would never _miss_ you, Saku-chan,” she rolls her eyes, but she smiles and pulls out a scroll, unsealing a bouquet of flowers from it, depositing the vase on the desk. “T&I is slow, Mom needs help in the shop.”

“Surely you could have dropped these at the front desk without informing me, Ino-pig,” she teases, her old nickname coming out as Ino falls into step beside her. “I’m a very important doctor, you know, I have patients to take care of.”

“Can it, Forehead Girl. I know that even you have time for tea and gossip.”

“I suppose I could make some time,” Sakura rolls her eyes, knowing that they were already walking the path to the cafeteria.

“So, how is work?” Ino asks, sitting down across from Sakura and folding her hands under her chin. Ah, Ino. If it hadn’t been for her, Sakura might have gone on believing that she liked Sasuke, that she was attracted to men. Watching Ino cut her hair, get rid of that which she had loved and cultivated so deeply all because of feelings, negatively or otherwise, for _her,_ had completely changed things. The night after that stage of the chuunin exams had been the night she had touched herself for the first time, thoughts of her blonde friend passing through her mind as she tried to make herself feel good, feel _better._

She had been so shaken when she realized who she had been thinking about that she had thrown herself into her supposed crush on Sasuke, driving the feelings about Ino down to the pit of her stomach, dark and deep where she could never find them.

“Work is work,” she says. “A bunch of jounin who think they’re immune to needing medical ninjutsu. What can you do?”

“I don’t know, Sakura, wouldn’t you say _you’re_ one of those jounin? Always looking out for others, never wanting help yourself.”

“I – that’s completely different!” Sakura sputters. If Ino wasn’t so in love with Sai, she might have allowed herself to believe that Ino had at one point returned the feelings. That she was like her. Like Sasuke. Like Naruto. But even if she was, Ino would never allow that sort of secret to get out. She cared too deeply about the opinions of the village. And unlike Sakura, she didn’t just have a job to lose, but a whole clan. “I don’t need people to take care of me, I can heal myself!”

“No one has endless supplies of chakra, Forehead Girl.” She punctuates her sentence by poking Sakura there.

“Ugh, shut up. How’s _your_ job?”

Ino waves her hand. “We aren’t fighting a war anymore, are we? Who is there to interrogate? There are a lot more who need help managing the aftermath. Bet you never thought I’d be a trauma counselor, did you?”

“That’s good work, Ino-chan.”

“It is,” she says somberly, before brightening back up to her normal chipper personality. “How’s your husband? You repopulating the Uchiha clan yet?”

The morning rushes to the front of her mind like a particularly painful prick to the thumb, and Sakura stops herself from shuddering. The reality of her procreative sex life was a secret for her and Sasuke to hold, and for no one else to be privy to. Some things should stay between a husband and wife, after all.

Sakura appreciates the way Ino will talk about Sasuke like he isn’t a criminal, a traitor with destruction behind him. Granted, it’s probably because she cares about the gossip, but Sakura will take what she can. The only other people to speak about him without disgust evident in their voices in this whole village were her teammate and sensei. And Hinata. Ah, Hinata.

Despite the way existing in a home with Sasuke felt like existing in a black hole, she did care for him, the way one might care deeply for a long-lost brother. The love was there even if the relationship wasn’t.

“Not yet,” Sakura says, looking down and hoping Ino will move the conversation onward. She and Sai have been trying, she knows. “You? Any little Yamanakas going to be running around soon?”

“Not yet, but hopefully soon,” Ino sighs. “I suppose I’ll have to wait for Temari and Karui to get on board anyhow.”

“Seventeenth Ino-Shika-Cho, huh?”

How nice, for Ino, that she will have that. Sakura was not averse to motherhood, but it would be a lie to say she wasn’t relieved to see her period arrive each month, business as usual.

“Can you believe it!?” says Ino. “We’re old, Saku-chan!”

“Not that old!”

“Old enough that Kakashi-sama wants to step down.”

“Oh, stop it with the Kakashi-sama. That’s weird.” Sakura wrinkles her nose. “Kaka-sensei will always be Kaka-sensei. A late, lazy idiot who’s too smart for his own good.”

“Not everyone was lucky enough to have the world famous Sharingan no Kakashi as their sensei,” chides Ino, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Not everyone can be Team 7,” Sakura agrees, and wasn’t that the truth? More than Ino knew. What a kind twist of Lady Fate’s cruel hand that they should have all ended up together. “But back up. Kaka-sensei wants to step down?”

“That’s what Shika-nii says,” Ino waves her hand. “He would know, no?”

“I suppose he would,” Sakura says, raising her eyebrows and taking a sip of her tea. “So who will be his successor, do you think? I honestly can’t think of anyone I feel is best slotted to take his place. Maybe Shikamaru himself.”

“Oh, honestly? What about your annoying teammate who declares his promise to become Hokage every five seconds? At this point I think he’s said it so many times that Rokudaime-sama is conditioned to think of Naruto whenever he hears the word Hokage.”

“Naruto?” Sakura’s eyes widen. “Reeeally? Huh.”

Ino shrugs. “It’s not a bad bet. He is loved by the village.”

“But what does he know of politics?”

“What did Rokudaime-sama?” Ino points out, to which Sakura shrugs.

“Fair point.”

“No better hospital gossip for me, Saku-chan? That was a juicy tidbit I just gave you.”

“Shiranui Genma broke his arm while on a simple intel-gathering mission last week?” she raises a shoulder. “It’s boring around here, Ino-chan. I’ll be glad when I have my next rotation and I can research with Tsunade-sama again.”

“That will certainly be interesting!” Ino says, finishing her tea and standing up. “I know that old lady will have some better gossip for me than _you.”_ She flicks Sakura’s shoulder as Sakura stands up as well, turning to head back toward the operating rooms.

“Go deliver your flowers, you washed-up chuunin!” Sakura teases, but she is grinning. She waves as Ino shunshins away.

Walking back toward the operating rooms, she is jerked out of her thoughts by an orange blur in the shape of the very teammate she had just been thinking about. Speak of the devil.

“Naruto-kun?” she asks, seeing him whip around, his face brightening at the sight of her. “I didn’t realize you’d be here today!”

“Sakura-chan!” he exclaims, heading towards her with his arms out. “I had hoped I might run into you on my way to pediatrics.”

“Pediatrics, huh? What about your old friend in the ER who might want some visiting?”

“Ahh, yeah,” he looks sheepish, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head in that telltale way of his. “The kids are so cute, though! They’re my favorite to visit!”

“Baka, I’m kidding!” she says. “I love how you come visit the patients, it’s so sweet. The kids definitely appreciate it.” And they did. For Sasuke’s sake, she wished that his love could be singular, but for the village’s sake, she was glad that he had so much to give. He had been kept back from releasing it for so long. She was glad some of her patients got to be on the receiving end.

“It’s nothing, Sakura-chan!” he smiles. “So, how’s Sasuke?”

Everytime he asks this, she studies his smile, looks for a hint of embarrassment, but all she finds is his clear earnestness, his true want to believe that they are happy and pushing each other forward. He truly does not realize that they are barely helping each other stay stable, or that she knows that he loves her husband.

“That’s going to take a drink or two to discuss.”

“Oh?” he raises his eyebrows, eyes bright. “Little Sasukes coming soon?”

Damn, twice in one day.

“Not yet,” she says through her teeth, forced smile on her face. “Really, you think I’d ask for a drink if that were the case? Why don’t we catch up tomorrow, huh? Hit the bar in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, sounds good!” he says, turning to head toward the pediatrics ward. “Kids, I’m comingggg!”

She sighs as he goes, watching him disappear down the hallway before shaking her head and going back to work.

He isn’t a bad person, but his capacity for dealing with emotions is still child-like. She doesn’t pity Hinata or Sasuke that duty. His heart is pure, she thinks fondly, but is a pure heart enough to be a successful Hokage?

Despite how many times he had proclaimed wanting to be Hokage, she had never really believed it would happen. But wouldn’t that just be picturesque? Naruto, the hero as the Hokage and Hinata at his side. A fairytale ending for him, as her and her husband watched from the sidelines.

No, too dark. Those thoughts were for the shower, for when she laid in bed alone on mornings off. Now was time for work. And there were sick citizens who needed attending to, who needed her.

 

* * *

 

 

After a full day at the hospital, Sakura always wakes the next morning already balancing on the edge of exhaustion and anxiety. Her mind is ready for work again, but her body isn’t quite. And for that reason, she supposes, turning over in the already-empty bed, she’s grateful that today is a day off.

Sakura dresses slowly and without much thought, slipping into her usual red dress, obi, and shorts. They’re not exactly civilian clothes, but she’s not a civilian and it’s been a very long time since she felt comfortable going anywhere without a weapon pouch on her thigh.

As on all of her free mornings, Sakura goes into her garden to tend to it. The wisteria is still blooming nicely, and will be for the next few weeks. Likewise, the bellflowers are beginning to bud, but they’re still tight and green, a month or so off from beginning to bloom.

Her herb garden, though, is flourishing.

The shiso has been sprawling in the early spring sunshine, and if she doesn’t prune it, it threatens to take over her basil. So she’ll do what she always does, and bring it to Hinata, who has a lovely flower garden but the hardest time keeping her herbs growing.

Sakura cuts a small basket-full of the shiso with the worn pair of shears she keeps just inside the door to the garden. The soil here is tender and sticks slightly to Sakura’s toes when they brush up against it. The past few weeks have been unusually rainy, now that she thinks of it. She’s usually worried about the beds going dry in the summer, and knows how to hand-feed them and add nutrients to the soil when need be, but she realizes that she doesn’t know how to prevent the roots from rotting if they get too wet. The sage will be the first to go, then the rosemary.

But this is a silly thing to be thinking, as Sakura stands in the garden in perfect, warm sunlight.

She picks a wisteria bloom from the vine and tucks it into her hitai-ate, just above her ear, and sets off for Naruto and Hinata’s house.

Hinata greets her warmly and wraps Sakura in a gentle hug, smelling of her shampoo and dish soap. Of course Naruto left her to do the dishes after breakfast. Always running off to do the next thing.

“Mm, Sakura-chan, it’s nice to see you,” Hinata says with a smile. Her long hair is wrapped into a bun on the back of her head, leaving just a few wisps framing her face.

“And you too, Hinata. I have some shiso for you, if you’d like it.” She gestures her basket towards the kitchen table and Hinata nods.

“I would love that,” Hinata says, opening the paper Sakura had used to wrap them and inhaling deeply from the bundle. “But you’ll have to let me pay you back.”

Sakura blinks once, twice.

“Stay for lunch?”

“What about your husband?”

Hinata rolls her eyes affectionately and tosses her head. “He’s staying the afternoon at the training ground with Kiba today. He’s abandoned me until dinner. Have a seat,” she says, pulling a chair out at the table for Sakura and setting a teacup down before her. She turns around the half wall back into the kitchen and sets water to boil. Something is simmering on the stove, Sakura realizes, and it smells delightful as the motion of Hinata’s body stirs the scent in the air.

“Is that so? Is he too busy taking care of the rest of the village? I know he still sees Sasuke quite a lot.”

“Hm? No, at least not when the academy is in session. Or, I suppose it’s just during breaks that I notice it, when I’m at home all the time like this.”

“Well, good,” Sakura says, “if you mean it. I’d have to knock some sense into him if I knew he was neglecting you, Hina-chan.”

Hinata’s back is turned to Sakura as she watches the kettle, and Sakura can see it stiffen a little at her words. A beat of silence passes between them before Hinata’s shoulders relax and she says in a calm and pleasant tone, “No, he doesn’t neglect me. If I want to see him more, well, I suppose that’s natural for a wife, isn’t it?”

Sakura absently raps her knuckles against the kitchen table as she parses Hinata’s words. “Every marriage is different, I suppose.”

“Is it? Don’t you miss Sasuke-kun while you’re at the hospital?”

 _No. Not really._ “Sometimes, I guess I do.”

“See,” Hinata says just as the kettle begins to boil. “I thought it must be that way.”

“For the most part, though, we see plenty of each other at home. Sometimes he needs to ask me to give him space.” Sakura’s eyes flick up to meet Hinata’s as she turns with the kettle in hand. “All you need to do is ask him, you know. Naruto is a strong-willed person, but he loves you because he could always see that you had a strong will, too. I’m sure he’s willing to hear what you have to say.”

“Hm.” Hinata pours the hot water into the teapot, already full of fresh green tea and jasmine flowers. “What do you ask Sasuke for?”

This catches Sakura off-guard, and she is sure her eyebrows go up. She hadn’t expected to come here to talk about marriage with Hinata. Truth be told, she didn’t care to know that much about Naruto’s personal life. Or rather, his _married_ life. Not to the extent that it was Naruto’s life. But Sakura realizes as she watches Hinata’s eyes, carefully measuring the water as it flows over the tea and causes the flowers to bloom in the fine metal cage that holds them, that she has never wondered that much about _Hinata’s_ married life, either.

She knows from her own experience that loving Naruto can be hard, and knows from Sasuke’s experience that, more than that, it can be brutal. Naruto is full of love for everything around him, but that’s the problem. His love is for everything and everyone and no one person comes before the village in Naruto’s heart.

“Sakura? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “No, that’s alright, I just hadn’t thought about it.”

“Ah,” Hinata says. She pulls out the chair across from Sakura and sits in it with a soft, liquid grace. She rolls her neck and brings her hands up to her hair where it is held in its bun and lets it down in a shining and fragrant wave. Jasmine, just like the tea. “I wonder if I can ask you kind of a personal question?”

Sakura swallows, wishing the tea were done brewing so she at least had something to busy herself with. Burning her tongue sounds like a marvelous distraction from the thought of Hinata’s lovely, long neck. “I can’t promise my answer will be helpful, but yes. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Hinata’s eyes light up, meeting Sakura’s, then flicker away. A charming holdover from her youth. How much she has changed since then, Sakura thinks, to be directing their conversation so confidently, asking for answers to “personal questions.”

The corners of her mouth quirk up. “I guess we are.”

Sakura presses the back of a hand to the teapot, testing its heat. “What would you like to know?”

“Are you– have you and Sasuke thought about starting a family?”

If Sakura had been drinking tea, she would have choked on it. _Starting a family_. Either Hinata had been thinking about it herself, or that was a very euphemistic way of asking a very different question. Then again, was it really that strange of a question to ask? Others around them were already beginning to have children, and it wasn’t as though she and Sasuke weren’t trying to do the same, in a manner of speaking, masochistic pact or not. Sakura considers all of this in silence before saying, “We have.”

“Have you talked about it?”

“Of course.”

“Of course,” Hinata repeats. Her expression is inscrutable, perfectly blank as she picks up the teapot in a slender hand and pours for Sakura.

“Can I ask you a personal question, too?”

Hinata keeps her eyes trained on the water as it pours from the spout of the tea pot. “That would only be fair.”

“Is Naruto working hard to make you happy?” She doesn’t know why the words leave her mouth, but once they’re out, they’re out. Part of it is lingering spite on Sasuke’s behalf, and part of it is genuine curiosity. If Sasuke isn’t getting Naruto’s effort, someone should be. No, it’s more than that. Hinata _deserves_ it.

Hinata’s mouth opens and shuts and her entire face goes quite pink. _Oh_ , Sakura thinks, _she took that much differently…_

“What are you thinking about? Is that a yes, then?”

“I– Well.”

While a part of her recoils from the thought of Naruto touching Hinata – fucking Hinata – there is another part that cannot resist the following thought. Hinata’s blush. How fully it must spread across her body when _someone_ touches her in a way she likes. A smirk carves its way out of the corner of Sakura’s mouth. “You can tell me if you want, we’re both wives after all.”

Hinata laughs nervously. “I guess you’re right. Just promise me not to spread it around?”

“I doubt you could tell me anything I couldn’t guess. But of course. I would never.” She extends her pinkie finger out across the table. “Just between us two wives.”

They pinkie swear to each other and Hinata confesses, shyly, that Naruto _does_ work hard to make her happy, with his cock at least. But no, that’s not the way she says it. She says, “He enjoys being with me like a husband and wife are together.”

“How? At dinner?” Sakura asks without thinking about it, or wanting to, really. A part of her wants to hear Hinata say it and she can’t tell if that part is predatory and selfish or simply self-hating.

“No…” Hinata says, eyes turning away. “Don’t tease me, Sakura-chan, you know what I mean.”

“He fucks you.”

Hinata looks like she’s just accidentally swallowed a whole radish, bright red and slightly breathless. She’s genuinely embarrassed. “W-we make love often, yes.”

“I’m sorry,” Sakura says, reason returning to her. She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the image of Hinata in bed, of Hinata red-faced and pleased. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t be so vulgar with you.” That’s all. She’s being stupid. They can’t have this conversation.

Hinata stutters and gives another strange laugh as she apologizes back. “No, it’s– it’s okay. I suppose I should be less… Less sensitive about that sort of thing, shouldn’t I?”

“No!” Sakura says it so fast she nearly interrupts Hinata. “No, I think you’re fine as you are. It’s me who should–” She slaps a hand over her face and laughs bitterly into her glove. “I’m sorry, Hinata, I’m being a terrible house guest. You probably don’t want me to stay for lunch.”

“Oh! Lunch!” Hinata gets up so fast she nearly knocks the chair over. The curry isn’t burned, but it’s close, which Hinata apologizes profusely for. It’s hot and it’s flavorful and Sakura gets to eat it in companionable silence with Hinata, who doesn’t seem as spooked by her vulgarity as Sakura would have expected.

But still. “I’m sorry,” Sakura says again, after they’ve finished their meal and are sharing another pot of tea. “For my behavior earlier. I think I must be frustrated about something.”

“Oh,” Hinata says again, going pink but not red. “No, no you really don’t need to be. I should really thank you. I actually had something I wanted to ask you about.”

“About–?”

“Sometimes, when we’re together Naruto– he’ll start off very excited but he doesn’t always make it to the end.”

“Hm.”

“I was wondering, does anything like that happen with you and Sasuke-kun?”

This time it’s Sakura’s turn to look like she’s swallowed something wrong. “No,” she lies.

“Oh.” Hinata looks downcast.

“Well, I mean, sometimes, yes. It has happened.”

“It has?”

“Yes. I mean, of course. I think it’s only natural. Men aren’t like us, like that. They need more energy. A woman can, well, ‘make it to the end’ a lot, sometimes several times in a row. But if a man has already done it once, or is tired, or hasn’t had enough to eat– it seems like almost anything can cause it, really.”

Hinata considers this information quietly as she takes the lunch plates and places them in the sink and Sakura just sits and sweats.

“Does that help?”

“Yes, actually. Thank you.”

“Of course. Again, I’m–”

“Please don’t apologize again. But there’s one more thing, if you don’t mind?”

“I’ve made your life difficult today, ask away.”

“You said a woman could finish several times in a row. Is that true?” Hinata turns just her face back to look at Sakura, genuine curiosity in her eyes. And _no, oh no_ , Sakura thinks, because any more conversation about this may kill her.

“Um, yes.”

“Isn’t that...uncomfortable?”

 _Not at all,_ Sakura thinks. “For some I guess it can be.”

“But not for all?”

 _Let me show you_ , Sakura thinks. “No, not for all.”

Hinata turns back to the sink and considers again, in silence. “Alright.”

Sakura watches her back as she stands there, water running steaming and hot into the sink. She’s beautiful, even from behind, _especially_ from behind. Sakura thinks about running her hands up Hinata’s thighs, feeling the softness of her hips spread out beneath her fingers. The fact that Hinata’s never come five times in a row is a crime. She could do that, right here if she had to. Then Hinata is shutting off the water, and Sakura realizes far too late that she should have offered to clean the dishes herself. She really has been a terrible guest.

“Thank you for having me for lunch.” The idea of having to sit here any longer, watching Hinata’s eyes as she fights off thoughts of her naked and writhing, is torture. She stands. “I hope you two can enjoy the herbs.”

Hinata smiles and comes around the table to wrap Sakura in another gentle hug. “Thank _you_ ,” she says, far too close to Sakura’s ear. “For the shiso and for putting my mind at ease.”

The shiver it causes carries Sakura the whole way home, and up the stairs, and into her bedroom where she shuts the door and finds herself undressed before she can even think. Her fingers move down the length of her body and find, with a jolt but no surprise, that she has leaked straight through her panties and onto her thighs.

She hasn’t been like this in– Sakura tries to think back, to grasp at the last time she got so wet without even being touched, but she can’t. Moreover, she doesn’t want to. Her embarrassing teenage crush on Tsunade was bad enough at the time, as was the time she and Ino– Well.

Shame floods her, quick and hot, and Sakura hates the thrill it still gives her, after all these years. She’s a deviant. An ugly, frigid cunt who can’t get wet for a man. So she can’t imagine that Hinata would be the one to turn around, to take Sakura’s face in her hands and beg her in a whisper, _please, stay_.

No. She’s the kind of dangerous adventure women take on a lark but never stick around for. Well, she thinks, shoving the thoughts down, desperate to take advantage of her own rare desire, she can work with that. Maybe Hinata wouldn’t meet her on equal footing, because Hinata isn’t like her, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t please her.

Sakura’s mind drifts back to Hinata’s kitchen. Hinata’s ass in her tight grey mission shorts. It twists her stomach to think about it, the dual spikes of want and self-hatred. She shouldn’t be thinking about pressing herself against Hinata, of feeling the warmth that radiates from every inch of her body. She shouldn’t be thinking of whispering in Hinata’s ear in answer to her question about orgasms, thinking of exactly how she would offer to give them to her. Nor should she be thinking of Hinata nodding, dumbstruck, or whispering back that she’s not sure if she should accept the offer, _but–_

And although Sakura wants more than anything to believe she wouldn’t have to convince her, it’s somehow easier to imagine that she has to. After all, Hinata is a good wife. Hinata loves her husband. She would never willingly cheat, much less with a woman because she _wanted_ a woman.

So in this fantasy – in all of her fantasies – Sakura has no choice but to be a predator, smoothing the way and pressing her prey down, saying _I promise you’ll like it, I promise, and you won’t owe me anything._

And Hinata smiles nervously and touches her cheek and says _I trust you_.

Sakura knows this is all fake, but somehow that’s what she needs – some kind of permission – before she can finally touch herself like she has wanted to since Hinata said _thank you_ hot and close into her ear. Her fingers slide between her labia with a soft sound and she spreads herself like the pages of a book, like the edges of a cut.

She wonders what Hinata smells like and the thought has her mouth watering and her fingers searching deeper, feeling herself clench around them. Tonight Hinata will taste savory and warm from the lunchtime curry, most likely, they both will. She’ll be tangy, too, in the way that most women are, like a fresh, sour fruit that’s been picked just before it’s ripe.

Sakura’s fingers seem to move of their own accord, spreading her wetness around her lips, smearing it on the hood of her clit, and thinking about Hinata’s thighs. Hinata’s stomach. Hinata’s breasts. And god, it would be a lie to say she hadn’t thought about her like this before.

They had both become adults so quickly, like adolescence had been a dream they had simultaneously woken from. Sakura had sprouted four inches in a year and Hinata had become beautiful. And no amount of cursing herself for it could have kept Sakura from thinking about the softness of those breasts, how they might yield in her hands, or how Hinata might sigh if she took a nipple in her fingers or her mouth.

Swirling a finger around her clit and pressing two into her hole, Sakura returns to that thought. How fast could she make Hinata come with one hand on her breasts and another in her pussy? From behind her, with Hinata’s hands braced against the counter. With Hinata bent over the kitchen table, lips peeking flushed and wet from between her thighs. From the floor in front of Hinata with Sakura’s mouth licking her, sucking her, drinking her down like she’ll never taste another woman again. And even if she didn’t, that would be fine if Hinata would let her just once, just one time, and touch her cheek like that, just like that.

Sakura comes and comes and _comes_ around her fingers with a force she had forgotten possible. She’s so sensitive after – still twitching every other second with persistent aftershocks – that she winces as she removes her fingers. She brings them up to her face out of curiosity, finding them coated in a thin, whitish liquid that smells– yes, the faintest bit of fresh curry. She wants to close her eyes and think about Hinata more, pretend that it is _her_ release she’s licking greedily from her fingers, but her energy for fantasy is fading. Replacing it is a quiet, deep discomfort like the pull before a wave. Sakura has the sinking sensation that she is about to step on a mine, or that she already has and is just waiting for it to go off. It’s not unlike the feeling of knowing she’s forgotten something but being unable to remember what exactly she’s forgotten.

She closes her eyes and drifts like that before suddenly, like a bell ringing by her head, she remembers.

 _Shit!_ Naruto. The drinks. She has to go.

 

* * *

 

 

Naruto isn’t there yet by the time Sakura arrives, which shouldn’t come as any surprise to her. He is many things, but on time has never been one of them. It doesn’t bother her any though, as she slides up to the bar and orders herself a short bottle of cold sake.

She has things to forget about before Naruto gets here, like the way she had just spent the afternoon in bed thinking about his wife. Sakura empties her cup once, and then again. No, she has to think about the right things, think about what crumbs to drop, not how to blow Naruto’s life apart.

She knows about her husband’s arrangement with Naruto. She’s had inklings since the first day, the day after he and Naruto had almost died hand-in-hand, but she got her confirmation soon enough after.

But that’s ancient history now. At least, it feels like it is.

A hand claps down on Sakura’s shoulder and Naruto’s voice, bright as ever, rings out in the bar.

“Sakura-chan! Sorry I’m late!”

Sakura smiles despite herself and sips, rolling her eyes. “No you’re not.”

“Ha, no, I’m not. I’m a busy man, you know? Where’s Kakashi, that old bastard?”

“Something tells me he’s busy, too.”

“No excuse! He should be able to show up every now and then.”

“It may also have been that I didn’t invite him.”

Naruto looks offended but slides up into the seat next to Sakura anyway. He jerks himself forward, nearly crashing into the bar. “You got something to talk about that he can’t hear? Why not?”

The truthful answer to that is _yes, kind of_ , but Sakura blows him off with an easy lie. _Just don’t, that’s the rule._ “Alright you got me, he was too busy for us. I tried, okay, I just didn’t wanna disappoint you.”

Naruto screws up his face, looking a little disappointed anyways, but taps at the sake bottle. “You got enough to share there?”

Sakura empties the cup and pours another out, nudging it towards Naruto. “I’ll share pretty much anything if you’re picking up the tab.”

Naruto grumbles but takes the cup, draining it in a single gulp. Neither of them are lightweights, but from the lightness of the bottle Sakura thinks he has some catching up to do.

“Let’s just arm wrestle for it later, yeah?”

Sakura rolls her eyes again but can’t help smiling a little as he sits there with his hand outstretched like he’s going to arm wrestle her right now, without a table between them. “As long as you’re not a sore loser about it.”

They grasp hands and Naruto lets his lips close back over his teeth, his bright blue eyes sparkling in the low bar lights. “Knew I could get you to smile.”

Sakura hadn’t even noticed that she hadn’t been, but of course that would have been his first priority.

“You looked tired earlier, I hope you’re not letting them overwork you at the hospital.”

Sakura sighs. “Not sure I could make them stop if I wanted to.” What Naruto doesn’t realize is that Sakura is only a step away from being the “them” he’s referring to. Another year or two and she’ll be in charge of the whole thing.

“Aw don’t talk that way, Sakura, I’ve seen what you can do when you’re angry.”

“So it’s war stories tonight?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Uh-huh, you didn’t, technically.”

Naruto waves at the bartender and motions for more to drink with one hand while pulling a bowl of spicy rice crackers across the bar with the other. He pops a handful into his mouth and munches while he considers Sakura.

“It’s been a while since we hung out. I wanted to see my teammate.”

 _What about Sasuke then, huh?_ The question hangs on the tip of Sakura’s tongue, but she does nothing with it. Just lets it hang there until the bartender sets down another short bottle and another cup which Sakura fills and empties and fills again. “You’re still a big dummy. But I guess I missed you, too.”

As she says it, Sakura can see the look on Naruto’s face soften. He would never say it, but that sort of thing is still a relief to him. Always looking at the open hands of friends, still terrified they’ll hit until the moment they feed. At least it’s an easy game to win. Most days Sakura only struggles with finding the motivation to try.

“Speaking of missing, how’s the old ball and chain?”

Sakura can’t help but snort directly into her drink. For someone with so much to gain through a little extra propriety, Naruto never even seems to bother trying.

She coughs and coughs, and laughs a little, too. “I guess that’s one way to ask after my husband.”

Naruto just turns to the front of the bar and raises his eyebrows as he slurps at his own drink.

“To be honest, he’s been a bit quiet lately. But you’re his best friend, how has he been with you?”

Now it’s Naruto’s turn to choke and sputter. _Well_ , Sakura thinks, _let him_. “I, uh, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks actually.”

With that blush on his cheeks? _Fucking liar._ “Ah, hm. Maybe that’s the problem, then. He probably misses you, huh?”

Naruto blushes and taps the back of his neck, entirely too warm for someone just talking about a friend. “You think so?”

“Don’t be stupid, he always misses you.” Sakura drops her elbows on the bar and looks over to find Naruto with his chin pillowed atop his folded forearms. For a brief second, his eyes light up.

“Yeah, well, who cares what he thinks, right?”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

Whether Naruto knows and chooses to play dumb or is truly too stupid to realize Sakura knows he and Sasuke see each other and sleep together on a regular basis is a mystery to Sakura, and likely will remain that way unless she does something about it. Lucky for both of them, today is not that day.

“I think he’s supposed to go to Hokage tower tomorrow. He said he had business there. If you wanted to surprise him.”

Naruto narrows his eyes at her and for a moment Sakura is afraid he’s going to tell her to stop meddling, to get out of his fucking business and, by the way, stop thinking about his wife. But then he adjusts his arms and she can see the smile showing over the tops of them. “You promise not to tell him? Let it actually be a surprise?”

Of course she won’t tell him, she won’t need to. Part of what makes this work is the silence of it, the way they have all agreed to live under the surface of their lives. It requires some of them to make a mess, like Sakura enabling Naruto to lead this double life with the occasional subtle hint and blind eye. And it does rankle her when things aren’t going well – on the days where she can see that Sasuke is upset and feeling particularly alone – but this is the path she has taken. _Do no harm_ , she had promised, but what constitutes the greater harm? Dishonesty in a marriage or dishonesty with one’s deepest self? She can’t deny them the tiny, hard-won happiness left to them. She hopes Sasuke would do the same for her, if he could.

Sakura shakes her head and then shakes the sake bottle, feeling that all that’s left is dregs. She still has to be at work tomorrow but not as early as yesterday and what the hell, why doesn’t she at least try to enjoy this time she has with Naruto?

“Only if you promise to throw the arm wrestle.”

Naruto groans outwardly but doesn’t disagree or wave the bartender off when she comes back with another bottle. They’re not the same people they were in the past, and it’s only half as fun when Kakashi’s not there to join them, but among all the things Sakura has had to settle for in the last week, this one feels very little like settling.


	2. Naruto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and subscribed! And double thank you to those of you who left a comment! We really, really appreciate it. 
> 
> One of you mentioned that Naruto was somewhat callous and we have to say, haha yes, you are correct, and we're very sorry but it's gonna get worse. What can we say? It's an infidelity fic and _somebody_ had to be the asshole...

**Chapter 2: Naruto**

 

 

“Sasuke.”

“Mn.”

“ _Sasuke_.”

His name was the first thing on Naruto’s mind this morning, and finally getting to say it brings with it a near-physical level of relief. It’s like it’s a part of the sex itself, as crucial as Naruto getting his cock out or getting his tongue in Sasuke’s mouth. The fact that he gets to say it while buried inside of his best friend – gets to feel how it makes Sasuke _squeeze_ around him – is only a bonus.

“Missed you yesterday,” Naruto says.

“Nn, you had me yesterday.”

“After that,” Naruto says, landing a playful slap on Sasuke’s ass as he thrusts moderately in and out. He’s not trying to drive either of them wild right now, just wants to enjoy this, the best part of his day. “I wanted you again.”

Sasuke’s neck, visible above the collar of his yukata and bathed in the light coming through the curtained window, shines with a faint sheen of sweat. He’s worked up, even if he says he’s not. He was before Naruto walked through the door twenty minutes ago. “You always want more.”

It makes a laugh bubble in Naruto’s throat because it’s true, he does always want more, and because Sasuke is lying if he believes he’s not the same.

“Something funny?” Sasuke asks as he pushes himself back onto Naruto’s cock, forcing him in deeper and pulling Naruto’s laughter into a low moan.

Naruto can’t help but give him what he wants now. He puts his hands over Sasuke’s hips and pulls him out of the rhythm he’s trying to set. “I was just thinking how lucky I am. Thinking about how–” he yanks Sasuke down onto his cock, hard, “beautiful–” and again, “you are.”

And that’s enough to make Sasuke laugh, too, with a strange low sound Naruto only recognizes as laughter because of their intense familiarity. He could recognize Sasuke’s voice anywhere, saying anything. He will be the first to admit he doesn’t always understand what he means, but Naruto knows the bulk of love is done just by being there. That’s what Sasuke needed from him in the first place, and that’s what he’ll give him.

Naruto pulls Sasuke close and fucks him with short, sharp thrusts, keeping his body near enough to reach a hand around front and stroke him off, if Sasuke will let him. At the first brush of Naruto’s fingers against his cock, Sasuke goes stiff, then bows into the table, pushing his hips back and his cock down into Naruto’s hand.

“Do you want more?” Naruto asks, just grazing up the shaft of Sasuke’s cock with the tips of his fingers.

Sasuke buries his face in the crook of his arm, groaning as he nods his head.

That’s good, but it’s not enough. Naruto wants him to admit what he knows is true. He pulls his hand back and slows his thrusts, asking again, “Do you want more?”

Sasuke grunts in frustration, the sound too low to be considered a whine but too desperate to be in protest. “Yes.”

“Do you want me to give it to you?”

“ _Yes,_ don’t make me say it twice. You know I can stop.”

Sasuke is always a pain, always determined to try and put Naruto on his back, even when Naruto has him in the same position. But he’s so _good_ like this, tight and slightly irritated as he skirts the edge of cumming under Naruto’s hands. He _can_ stop, sure, but as long as Naruto doesn’t push him, he won’t. He never will.

“Okay,” Naruto says, leaning down to mouth at Sasuke’s shoulder and cupping his balls in one hand. “Okay, I won’t make you say it again.”

He gently squeezes and rolls Sasuke’s balls in his hand, feeling them twitch and tighten as he does, knowing how good his cock looks bobbing up and down when he’s this close. “Is that good? Are you ready? You want me to make you cum?”

Sasuke grunts and groans again, trying to pull out of Naruto’s grasp to get a longer stroke, maybe to give his prostate a break from the way he’s breathing in tiny, hitched gasps. “Yes,” he whispers. “Yes, yes.”

Then Naruto is kissing and sucking at Sasuke’s neck and pulling his hand over Sasuke’s cock, feeling it twitch violently in his grasp. Naruto groans at the feeling of how hot and achingly hard Sasuke is, how precum has dribbled halfway down the shaft and runs over his fingers, which are still faintly wet with Sasuke’s spit from when Naruto had fingered him earlier. It doesn’t take much more than that, Naruto pumping his hand up and down decisively and whispering _go ahead, cum, cum around me, into my hand_ , and Sasuke is doing exactly as he says, shooting into the hot bowl of Naruto’s palm and clamping down on Naruto’s cock where he’s still trying valiantly to thrust deeper into him.

It feels like every single muscle in Sasuke’s body goes rigid, like he becomes a bent column of steel under Naruto’s chest and hands, and then he’s relaxing and relaxing until it feels like he’s melting right onto and off of the table. Naruto would ordinarily try to pull out slower, for Sasuke’s sake, but Sasuke pulls himself off of Naruto’s cock before Naruto can do anything about it. Then he does melt right off the table, falling back until he’s sitting on his knees and turning back around to face Naruto.

With his eyes closed, Sasuke reaches out and finds Naruto’s cock with steady, graceful fingers, and begins stroking. And Sasuke’s ass feels incredible, but it really can’t compare to the feeling of seeing him on his knees like this. Naruto braces himself against the table with his dirty hand, smearing Sasuke’s cum into the wood. He reaches out his own hand to graze two fingers along Sasuke’s cheek, cupping it to find his skin surprisingly cool for how flushed he still looks. Sasuke squeezes him near the base and Naruto can’t help the loud _Ah!_ that escapes him or the way he squeezes Sasuke’s cheek back in kind.

Sasuke’s eyes snap open to meet Naruto’s and there is something undeniably violent in them – in the set of them or in their eerie mismatchedness – but there’s something tender too, in the way that Sasuke _lets_ Naruto see him like that, from above and from so close. That’s the thought that sends him over the edge, spurting onto his own stomach as Sasuke watches and feels him jerk and twitch.

Sasuke says nothing. He’s never been as vocal during sex as Naruto is. But a tiny smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

Naruto sighs, long and deep, and leans in to graze his lips against Sasuke’s cheek opposite the one still pressed into his palm. “Thank you.”

Sasuke brushes the kiss off but the shadow of his smile remains as he stands and wipes his hand on Naruto’s chest. “‘Thank you but you have to go.’ Right.”

“I do but–” Naruto leans in and loops an arm around Sasuke’s waist. “ _Thank_ you.” He moves to kiss him and Sasuke lets him, but all of the passion of a minute ago is gone, evaporated like steam back into the stale air of this unused office.

“I need to leave anyways. I have shopping to do before my wife returns home.”

“You always have shopping to do.”

Sasuke pulls the skirt of his yukata down from his hips and smooths what he can of the wrinkles there before retrieving the empty woven basket he deposited on the handle of the door when he arrived. “Yes I do.”

And just like that, Sasuke is gone again, and Naruto is thinking about the rest of his day as easily as he redresses, ignoring the tacky feeling of semen on his stomach and the fresh tenderness in his balls. He should go. Hinata will be waiting when he gets home for lunch, she always is.

He bites his lip, mouth watering as he thinks of the dish she surely has prepared as he turns the corner to take the path to their home. The tsubaki in her garden are just starting to bloom, the red unfurling from beneath the green, poking their heads up to say hello. A couple walking by waves to him, and as he lifts his hand to wave back, he feels a warmth in his chest that makes him walk with an extra spring in his step, throwing open the door and yelling an exuberant “I’m home!”

She’s in the kitchen, waiting with a bowl of soup. The Academy is on its spring break, and she has been working from home, drawing up lesson plans and going out for ramen with Iruka-sensei more times than he can count. She’s beautiful as always, sun hitting her black hair in a way that makes it shine blue, the slight smile on her face at her genuine happiness to see him a steady comfort.

“Looks good,” he smiles, sitting down at the table across from her.

“How was your day?” she asks, and he loves that about her; so kind, so caring, always has been. She saw him when everyone else saw nothing but a demon. He bites his lip, thinking about the way his mouth had formed around Sasuke’s name, around _Sasuke_ earlier. He’ll fuck her in a bit.

“Good,” he answers, swallowing. “Good, good. Tired from training, you know?”

She nods, stares at him as if she’s waiting for something.

“It’s good,” he announces, grinning up at her over where the bowl is still half-tipped into his mouth.

She sighs. The air in the room is thick and stagnant, despite the comfortable breeze through the window. She’s always doing that these days, sighing and looking like she’s waiting for something more. He hates to think of her as sad, and he doesn’t know what to say.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, reaching across the table to brush her cheek, hoping to get a grin out of her, which he does; one side of her mouth curves upward, but her eyes remain downcast. She doesn’t _know,_ he knows, but he still feels like he should do something about it. He could tell her. It wasn’t cheating, it was being there for his most precious person, and he could tell her. But –

“My day was productive,” she says, clearing his bowl and returning it to the sink with a clatter. “Graduation exam is coming up soon.”

“Oh!” That reminds him, and he pushes the thoughts out of his mind. “Kaka-sensei says I’ll be jounin soon. Maybe I’ll get to train some of the new genin, huh?”

“Maybe.”

She’s smiling still, but something feels disconnected. Had her hair been that long yesterday?

“Tell you what,” he says, pushing his chair back, and making for the bathroom. He needs to clean up, at least a bit. “How about some afternoon delight, huh? I know you’re stressed, I can help you out.”

“That’d be nice,” she murmurs, heading toward the bedroom, unzipping her jacket as she goes. He watches her over his shoulder for a moment before shutting the bathroom door behind him, washing his hands and wiping a towel over his stomach. It’s shoddy handiwork, but she won’t question anything.

She’s waiting for him on the bed when he gets back, hitai-ate and jacket in his hand. He throws them to the side, stripping quickly out of his shirt and pants, and they land on top of the neat pile Hinata has made of her on clothes on top of a chair.

Her breasts are perky and supple as she sits against the headboard, inviting him in. He leans in for a kiss first, hands carding through her hair, and _god_ he loves her. He crawls over her, kissing down her neck as he goes, licking a stripe up the side of her jaw.

“Should’ve left your clothes on,” he mutters.

“Why?” She asks, and her voice is already higher and breathier, nearly catching as Naruto tweaks her nipple.

He squeezes the flesh of her breast and leans down to lick at the same nipple, satisfied with himself that he can feel it harden under his tongue. He mumbles around it, meeting Hinata’s eyes to find them already looking towards his. “I like taking them off of you.”

“I didn’t realize. Next time,” she says, “I can leave them on.”

Naruto shakes his head and switches nipples, letting a hand trail down to reach between her legs, where her thighs press together, smooth and pleasantly round. He finds her damp, there, ready for him with so little work. That’s his Hinata. So beautiful and sweet and irresistibly cute. It’s not that he had that much more experience than she did when they got engaged, outside of Sasuke and that’s completely different, but after almost two years she still seems new to sex, a little embarrassed and always so quiet.

“No need, baby, I love this however.”

Naruto pecks at Hinata’s lips and uses the hand between her legs to gently spread them apart, crawling up between them and letting his cock stiffen in his underwear against her stomach. Her softness there is so different from Sasuke’s, although neither of them are hard-bodied. Sasuke has the softness of driftwood, smooth and fine-grained, where Hinata is like fresh mochi, sweet with the slightest bit of squish here and there. Well, except for her breasts. Naruto brings both hands up to cup and squeeze at them with greedy fingers. There she has _plenty_ of squish.

Hinata makes a sound into Naruto’s mouth that sounds like a hiccup but is probably her idea of a moan. It’s cute, and Naruto smiles into her mouth as he ruts up against her.

“Does that feel good?” He asks, pulling his clothed cock up and down across her slit. “Do you like that?”

“Yes,” Hinata says, hands coming up to grip at his shoulders, eyes squeezing closed. “Keep going.”

“Should I put it in? Are you ready?”

She nods fervently and makes a small _mm-hmm_ sound.

Naruto reaches down, pulling his underwear off as quickly as he can. When he rubs the head of his cock on the lips of her pussy, Hinata makes another small hiccupping sound and Naruto meets her gaze with a smile. She smiles, too, even as she blushes and looks down. That’s another thing that’s different between his Sasuke and his Hinata, how they keep their pleasure quiet. Sasuke does it like a challenge, but Hinata is shy. He would like it if she were less shy with him, and if it were easier to get Sasuke to cry out like he does sometimes, but maybe it’s best this way. His lovers keep him on his toes, always giving him a challenge.

Hinata squeaks as Naruto sinks into her, taking him with gentle, wet squeezes all the way.

He can’t help himself, groaning into her shoulder. “Aaaaaaaah, Hinata. You feel so good around me.” Hinata brings a hand into Naruto’s hair and strokes his head. “Do I feel good inside you?”

Again, Hinata nods and hums in Naruto’s ear. “Yes, of course.”

Naruto pulls out, pushes back in. “Yes,” he says, “I’m glad, I’m glad. Want you to feel good.” He closes his eyes, lets the feeling take him. Hinata is so tight today, squeezing and squeezing with each pull and push. “Want you to feel as good as I feel.”

Naruto doesn’t like to make comparisons, but if someone asked him who he was inside right now, it would be hard for him to tell, with Hinata gripping him almost as tight as Sasuke does after being worked open a little. Like this morning. They’d had enough time for Naruto to finger him, fitting one, then two, then three inside before ever trying to enter him. And he was hard before, but now he thinks maybe he’s actually starting to feel it, that pulling at the back of his balls. Obviously he’d wanted to before, but he hadn’t really been thinking he would come again and, god, yes, thinking about Sasuke pulling up his yukata skirts to reveal himself to Naruto, it’s hard to imagine he wouldn’t. Naruto’s hips stutter and he goes from clutching at the covers of the bed to gripping soft hips as his pace increases. He can’t banish the image of Sasuke – the backs of his thighs all flushed from the fucking, the way his hole looks, stretched around Naruto’s cock–

“A-ah! Naruto–”

Naruto’s eyes snap open and he’s met with a face full of breast and fine black hair.

“Naruto, Naruto, please…”

Naruto answers her with a few emphatic _yeahs_ as he holds tight and pumps his hips, but a part of him feels like a bubble has burst. The pulling, tingling feeling has disappeared from inside of him and he’s aware of how little sleep he got yesterday, and how much training he did, and how _tiring_ sex actually is. He’s not going soft but nothing feels as electric anymore, like the moment when scratching an itch goes from eye-crossingly good to just scratching. And, he realizes, things are getting a little drier, a little too warm with a little too much friction. To keep going would require more time and a lot more effort. He’d have to help Hinata get wet again, probably eat her out, which he likes well enough but, well, he hasn’t actually gotten to train yet today and he can’t really afford to waste the extra daylight.

He slows down, letting his fingers loosen their grip on Hinata’s hips, and looks into her face. “Are you okay?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. We don’t have to keep going.”

“I’m– I’m alright.” She puts a hand to his cheek and tilts her head, her hair only a little mussed and her cheeks just the slightest bit pink. “Are you okay? Do we need to stop?”

“No!” He says, “No, I just– Just realized I’m kind of tired, is all.”

“Oh. I should have listened when you said you were tired earlier. You had a long morning. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Hinata, really.”

“Are you sure? You’re not upset that I still wanted to–” She looks down and then away, evading the obvious despite the fact that they are still technically in the middle of the act.

“No, baby, of course I’m not. I’m sorry I can’t give you what you need.” Naruto groans as he slowly pulls out of his wife, who gasps in response, whatever she’s feeling outside of his experience. “I promise I’ll have more energy later.”

Hinata smiles and her brows pinch upwards and together. “Please don’t worry about it. We don’t need to do this all the time. I can be patient when you need.” She blinks and tilts her head the other way, looking wistful but also maybe a little sad. “Husband.”

She really must have had a difficult morning, and suddenly Naruto has an itchy feeling in his gut, disappointed in himself for not being able to improve her day. He leans in to kiss her forehead. “Thank you, wife.”

Hinata makes a pleased little _hmm_ sound.

“I suppose I should go back to training, shouldn’t I? I’ll need to work hard to pass the jounin exam.”

Hinata wraps her arms around Naruto’s shoulders. “You will.”

Naruto’s heart swells and another smile breaks out across his face. Hinata _always_ knows exactly what to say to him. He plants a kiss directly on her lips, feeling them tighten, then soften and return the kiss. Hinata has the most beautiful lips. “I love you.”

That same strange smile remains on her face and in her eyes as she says back, “I love you, too.”

Naruto rises and goes to the chair, untangling his clothes from one another and dressing efficiently. No point in showering if he’s just going to get dirty later.

“I’ll see you for dinner, lovely wife?”

“Of course, husband. What do you want?”

“Whatever you’d like,” Naruto says, giving her another kiss goodbye on the top of her head. Hinata lies propped up against the pillows, still naked and very beautiful, but Naruto’s mind is already somewhere else. Back to training and the village and all of the things he wants to accomplish today. One can’t stop for one missed objective. The mission has to go on.

 

* * *

 

That afternoon, he does actually have training, so he heads to training ground 4 and begins going through his exercises. An hour or two in, he hears a bark behind him and turns to see Kiba with Akamaru, much to his delight.

“Kiba, what’s up!” he exclaims. “It’s been a while, what do they have you doing in T&I that I never see you around anymore?”

He runs toward his friend, giving him a fist bump before bending down to pat Akamaru’s head.

“Ehh, not much,” Kiba says, shrugging his shoulders. “A lot of trauma counseling, though. I’m helping some of the shinobi get ninken, for like, therapy.”

“A puppy for therapy? No way!”

“Yes way!” Kiba exclaims. “Dogs are really great for people with post-traumatic stress disorder. I’d love to tell you about it sometime.”

“I’d love to hear about it,” says Naruto, and he means it. He loves seeing where all of his friends have ended up after the war, doing work that makes them happy and settling down. Last he heard, Kiba was seeing a girl that seemed to hold an affinity for cats as much as Kiba did for dogs. Naruto had no idea how opposites attracted like that, but they seemed to make it work. Well, he supposes he does have a little idea of how opposites could attract. He chuckles to himself.

“We should get drinks sometime, man. You, me, Shika, Chouji…just like old times.”

“Definitely,” smiles Naruto, fishing a kunai out of his pouch and slinging it at the target set up across the field. He doesn’t mention that it isn’t at all like old times. As soon as Kiba had realized how much Naruto struggled in the academy, he had joined in the ridicule. He’s moved on from that, though. Everyone is a different person, and Naruto believed harder than anyone in second chances. Isn’t that why he had brought Sasuke back? “Yeah, definitely. Spar?”

“Oh, you’re on, Uzumaki,” smiles Kiba, shifting into an opening stance.

“Bring it, Inuzuka,” Naruto grins back, moving into his own stance. “Taijutsu only. And no Akamaru either!”

Kiba rolls his eyes.

“You think you can’t take this?”

“You know what?” Naruto says, his eyes flashing. “I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again. Let’s go!”

Kiba is a good shinobi, and he is adept at taijutsu, but after Naruto’s training with Jiraiya and Fukasaku, he is no match. Naruto doesn’t beat him easily, but the match does end with him smiling over a panting Kiba and a whining Akamaru, poised to make the winning hit.

“Alright, I yield!” laughs Kiba, and Akamaru barks in agreement.

“Told you!” Naruto sticks his tongue out, but he is pleased with himself. Despite acting like it doesn’t really matter, he is concerned about passing the chuunin exams and subsequently being made jounin. Sasuke isn’t a jounin either, but he is an S-ranked criminal, which is basically the same thing. And Sakura and Kakashi are jounin, it’s only right that he’s the same rank as the rest of his teammates. He would never admit it, but all of those years struggling through the academy, and his difficulty in training still got to him at times, he didn’t know how to act without letting his body get the better of him before his brain could think.

But, he did just beat Kiba, and that felt pretty damn good.

“We’ve been around training all _day,”_ Kiba says, “we’re tired!” He fishes a joint out of a pocket and sits up, lighting it and taking a puff. “Smoke?”

“Some of us have to worry about passing the chuunin exams,” Naruto says, groaning. “I’ll pass for now.”

“Are you really worried about that?” Kiba asks. “I’m surprised Rokudaime-sama hasn’t just made you an jounin without having you jump through all the hoops. Didn’t he watch...whatever went down with you and Sasuke?”

Naruto shrugs. He can feel the question Kiba didn’t ask; what _did_ go down between him and Sasuke? But that’s Team 7 business. “Kaka-sensei and Iruka-sensei say I have to follow the rules.”

“Because you’re so good at doing that,” Kiba points out. “Besides, we all know Rokudaime-sama wants you to succeed him. You think he’d just decree it and that would be that.”

“I don’t think Iruka-sensei would let him– wait, what?” Naruto stops and asks when Kiba’s sentence catches up with his brain. His eyes are wide as he processes that. “Kaka-sensei what?”

“He...wants you to succeed him?” Kiba repeats. “You didn’t know that?”

No, Naruto certainly did not know that. Being Hokage was his dream, his way to finally give back to this village and to show Sasuke that things could change for the better. It was his way to prove to everyone that he was worth paying attention to and his way to receive all of the love he had missed out for so long. And, he thought distantly, looking over at Hokage rock, it was a way to honor his father.

“I didn’t...no, you’re pulling my leg, Inuzuka. You know I’ve always wanted to be Hokage, don’t dick me around like that! You talk all the time about being a suitable candidate, surely you want it to be you!”

Kiba shakes his head. “I wanted that at one time, but I’m honestly happy doing what I’m doing. I wanted to be Hokage because it seemed powerful, but that’s not right. Really Naruto, it _should_ be you. You’re the Hero.”

Naruto blushed, but he couldn’t deny the swell of warmth that bloomed in his chest. _It wasn’t me, it was Sasuke, and Sakura-chan, and Kaka-sensei, and everyone,_ he wants to say, but he shrugs instead.

“I still think you’re pulling my leg.”

“I’m not!” Kiba says, taking another long drag on his joint. “Ino told me, she heard it from Shika, who heard it from Rokudaime-sama himself. He never wanted this, you know that. He was just who was needed at the time, and you were too preoccupied with chasing Uchiha to take over for Tsunade when she went into her coma.”

“And she woke up from that coma, Kaka-sensei didn’t become Hokage till later,” he deflects, cheeks coloring at Kiba’s phrasing of the situation. Is that how it had looked to everybody? That he was chasing Sasuke? He...had been, but it had been important, right? Sasuke had to come back, he just had to.

“Maa, whatever,” says Kiba. “I’m saying, you’re going to be the Nanadaime Hokage, Naruto.”

Naruto chances a look back over, and Kiba is smiling, Akamaru gives an affectionate woof. Kiba wouldn’t take the joke this far, he must really mean it. Belatedly, Naruto realizes there’s a lump in his throat, and he thinks he might cry, the happiness overwhelming.

“You really mean it!” he says. “You really mean it!”

“Don’t cry, Uzumaki,” Kiba says, but Akamaru licks a stripe up the side of Naruto’s face and Naruto knows that Kiba doesn’t mean it rudely. “Yeah, yeah I mean it. You deserve it! But don’t tell Rokudaime-sama you know, I’m sure he wants to tell you himself.”

“No, but I gotta go...I gotta go tell Hinata!” he says, standing up and brushing off his knees. “I’m gonna be the best Hokage this village has ever seen, believe it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you will. Go tell her! And tell her to stop hiding from her teammates, Shino and I would love to grab a drink with her sometime!”

“I will!” he waves, running off, heading back toward the village proper. It takes him awhile to realize that his feet had led him instinctually toward Sasuke and Sakura’s place before they led him to his own home and he forces himself to turn around and head back to see Hinata. It is nearing dinnertime, afterall, and she’ll want to hear this. What news! He doesn’t really know how to process it, the thoughts racing through his mind in the way that they do when he has just achieved a very specific goal and he no longer knows how to occupy his time or his mind.

All of the miserable nights he had cried himself to sleep, the years he had spent training, the endless pursuit after his best friend, pulling him back and seeing him through happiness with Sakura while he found his own with Hinata, it had all been worth it, for this. He _knew_ Kaka-sensei cared for him! And now he could return that care, could return it all to the village he loved and believed in.

Hinata is going to be so excited, he knows. Sasuke probably won’t be, but he’ll take care of that. He’ll make him see. He’ll make everybody see. He’s going to be the best Hokage that Konoha has ever had.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hello, hello!” Naruto calls, forgoing the door for the open kitchen window, following the fumes of the dinner Hinata is cooking. “Mmm, something smells good, baby, sukiyaki?” he asks, snaking an arm around her waist and spinning her where she stands at the stove, placing a kiss on her lips.

“Naruto,” she scolds, a hint of real exasperation under her teasing voice. He chooses to ignore that, in too good of a mood to let her bring him down again today. “Sit down.”

He does, happily rubbing his stomach in anticipation and standing up to give her a kiss on the cheek when she walks over to place the dish on the table, unable to sit still, buzzing all over.

“Itadakimasu!” he exclaims while she murmurs the same across from him, reaching in to help himself to a portion. “This is a lot, you trying to feed an army? The war is over. There’s only us two here.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, laughing to himself when she smiles. He’s itching to get his news out, can’t wait to hear what Hinata has to say about it. Her eyes have been sad all day; she must be overworked, surely this will cheer her up. And he can’t fail at _this,_ despite the way he had tapped out mid-sex earlier.

“I’m providing for our family, husband,” she says demurely, deftly moving her chopsticks to take her own portion. “You sound like you had a good day. Did training go well?”

He takes a bite of beef, savoring the taste on his tongue, slurping it down with the lack of manners he had never learned.

“Ah, training,” he groans, mouth full. “It’s really ridiculous that they’re making me do this, you know?”

“Passing the chuunin exam is important,” she chides, taking a bite of tofu. “We all did it. You’ll pass, Naruto.” She’s so kind, and he can’t even be upset that she’s reminding him of his rank. Not with the news he just heard.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter. I’m basically a jounin anyway. Besides, I have more exciting news. Really, really big news for us. Something that I’m going to need your help with.”

Immediately, she perks up, both sides of her smile pulling up and her cheeks coloring as realization seems to dawn on her face. _There’s_ his sunflower, his girl. He _knew_ she’d be excited.

“Yes?” she asks, giggling. Does she already know what he’s going to say? He shoves another bite of beef and negi into his mouth, eating with the gusto he had never abandoned and the ingrained speed that comes with going hungry often in your youth. That’s not him anymore though, this news an absolute reminder. “Should I get a bottle?”

“Yes, and one of the good ones,” he grins. “I ran into Kiba on my way home. You know, he works with Ino in T&I. Well, she’s essentially Shika’s sister. And Shika obviously works with Kaka-sensei.”

She slows her bites, putting her chopsticks down, confusion mounting on her face. “Yes?”

“Well, apparently Kiba heard from Ino who heard from Shika that Kakashi is planning on stepping down soon.”

“Stepping down?” she asks. “He’s still quite young. And this village...it still needs rebuilding from Pain’s attack.”

It’s true, and she would know that better than anyone, the attack that had destroyed the village but led them together. Still, he knows his sensei, and if he’s stepping down, then he must believe in Naruto to continue where he had left off.

“Yes, well. This is the part you’re gonna be excited about, baby. You ready?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“He wants me to succeed him! I’m going to be Hokage!”

He pauses, waits for the news to sink in, standing up to walk behind her chair, pulling it out and placing his hands on her shoulders, wanting to pick her up and spin her around. She must be in shock, or something.

“Hinata? Isn’t that fantastic?”

“That’s...really…”

“Yeah?” he asks, encouraging. Ah, she had always been a bit shy, found it hard to express herself. Just like his Sasuke, sure that his reaction will be just as wordless when he tells him. Ah, when he tells him, when he pounds his ass over a table in the _Hokage office._ He grins despite himself. “I’m going to get that bottle you mentioned.”

He’s still thinking about the way Sasuke will look bent over the desk, Naruto’s white Hokage robes spilling around his naked back, begging the Nanadaime for more as he reaches the liquor cabinet, grabbing the bottle and dancing with it as he walks back over to the table, picking up Hinata’s still-full glass and draining it.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” she finally says, looking over her shoulder with a soft smile on her face. “I just thought…”

“You didn’t think I’d be Hokage so soon?” he interrupts, pouring them each a glass of the sake. “Me neither! I’ve been stressing about making jounin for nothing!”

“Well, yes,” she says, chopsticks back in the food but not taking a drink. “I’m very happy for you.”

“You don’t look happy,” he comments, finally taking a look at the way her forehead is scrunched up. His stomach drops uncomfortably, but she must have a reason. Perhaps she’s worried about him overworking himself. Ah, Hinata, she’s got nothing to worry about. He’ll be fine, he always is. How hard can being Hokage really be, anyway? “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine! I’m Uzumaki Naruto!”

“I suppose you are,” she smiles.

“So what are you feeling weird about?”

“I’m not feeling weird,” she says. “I’m happy for you! I just thought…”

He stares at her.

“I thought you were going to say you were ready to have a family,” she admits, face the pinkish-red color of the beef in the dish before it has cooked through, her glassy eyes on the table.

Her admission hits him like a fuma shuriken to the back. A family?

“We are a family.”

Hinata blinks and shakes her head, mouth opening and closing slightly before she speaks. “No, I mean – _children_. A whole family.”

“Kids?” he echoes aloud. “Well...yes, I suppose we’ll have them after I’ve been in office for a few years.”

“A few years?” she says, meekly.

“Yeah...Hinata, what are you saying? Do you not want me to become Hokage? This is my dream!”

His anger is quick to light, and he’s unable to tamp it down. This is _Hinata!_ She was the one who had believed in him from the beginning, and now that this is happening she wants him to put it off for _children?_

“Well, what about what I want?” she asks, and he drops the mushrooms he is holding between his chopsticks. So mild mannered and supportive, but he supposed he did always love her for the hidden fire that coursed through her. How that had come to bite him in the ass.

“You don’t want this? This is what couples do! They support each other!”

Hinata pushes her chair back suddenly. “It would have been nice to have a discussion about it.”

“Why is this even something that needs to be discussed?”

She looks at him then – a beat longer than is socially necessary, and it unsettles him as he remembers just what those eyes are capable of.

“I just – need a second,” she says, shaking her head and hopping out the window the way he came in, something he knows she’s more than capable of but has never actually seen her do.

He blinks.

“What the hell?” he says out loud, thinking for a moment of going after her, hating himself for the way his mind drifts to Sasuke, wants to be held and to be given a hearty congratulations, but he would not get that out of him, either.

He manages to talk himself down as he looks back down at his uneaten dinner and the way she had done this for him, to provide. He’s an asshole, and he may as well clean up her hard work, try and preserve as much of it as he can.

He just can’t understand her! He gathers up their bowls, chopsticks, and the pot, carrying it all to the sink and beginning to scrub the table, running a hand down his face. _They support each other!_ It sounds terrible in his mind now, but her lack of acceptance was flooring. Children had truly never crossed his mind.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bring more people into this world, remembering his own painful childhood and the terrible hardships that were with him even now. Years of being an outcast, and for what? Something beyond his control? Sure he had the love of the village _now,_ but who’s to say how long that would last? And then what? Hinata should understand that.

He should apologize, but he needs to understand where she is coming from. Clearing up the last of the utensils, he heads upstairs to their room where he sits on the bed, and thinks.

Laying there now, alone, how many times had he done that as a child, wishing desperately that he had someone to share his day with, that he had someone to teach him to read, to teach him to cook? Someone to help him with homework, to show him an _ounce_ of affection?

He had made a promise to himself that he would love this village and protect it to the best of his ability so that he could make up for everything that was lost. And how could he do that if he had children?

“Naruto,” comes Hinata’s voice from the doorway. He looks over at her, and god, she is beautiful, backlit by the moonlight streaming in from the hallway window. Her facial expression doesn’t betray whatever she is thinking, but he can feel the hesitant apology coming on, and interrupts.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have said those things. It was –”

“It’s fine,” she says before he can finish. “It’s fine. Of course you want to be Hokage. Children can come after things have settled.”

“What?”

“It’s fine, Naruto,” she says, offering him a smile as she takes off her jacket and begins stripping out of her shirt and pants, padding over to the bed in just her panties.

“Where did you go?” he asks, curious about this complete 180. He had been ready to try and explain himself but, well – it seems he won’t have to.

“I went to buy some new seeds for my garden,” she responds. “Higanbana and suitopi.”

“Nice,” he says, absolutely no idea what either flower looks like but sure they will look beautiful sprouting up in a few weeks time as late spring comes and then the warmth of summer. He’ll have to keep watch on her garden.

“It is nice,” she murmurs, reaching over to take his shirt as he strips it off and sheds his pants, pulling it over her braless chest and getting under the covers. “I think I’ll have an early night.”

“It’s only 8pm,” he says, chuckling, but finds himself getting up to turn out the light.

“The Academy starts back tomorrow,” she sighs. “And I have a feeling we’ll be needing the sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always kudos and comments mean the world to us. 
> 
> Next update will be on the 29th!


	3. Hinata

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Sorry for the late post, your authors were seeing Into the Spider Verse at our usual posting time! It was amazing and you should DEFINITELY go throw your money at it if possible.

**Chapter 3: Hinata**

 

 

“...And Naruto says hi, as always,” Hinata smiles warmly, placing one of her tsubaki flowers she has been cultivating down on Neji’s grave. It is now the second week of spring, and the first ones have just come into bloom, and she knew right away to take them to her cousin. “And I guess that’s it. Oh! There is one thing, actually,” she says, screwing up her mouth as she thinks about how to word what she wants to say.

Nothing could take away the pain of Neji being gone, but talking to him was a pretty good way to mask that pain. She always came away from their talks feeling lighter, too.

“Sakura-chan came to visit the other day,” she begins. “It was...enlightening.” She laughs, despite herself. It’s not a happy sound, it’s a cautious sound. Neji is silent, as always.

“I admit, it’s a little weird to talk to you about this – and you can tell me to stop if you want – but I think that maybe, Naruto hasn’t been pleasing me in all the ways that he should?” She can feel her cheeks color, like someone is holding an open flame very close on either side of her. “And I don’t just mean like that! Although, that too.”

She sighs. She honestly hadn’t considered that there was more to sex than having an orgasm and laying with your loved one and just enjoying their presence. Although lately, she wasn’t sure that Naruto was doing that either with the way he was always rushing off to training!

“But I don’t want to talk to you about that, Neji-niisan, I’m sorry. I just mean, I think that we may want different things? I feel terrible for even thinking that! But he just told me he is to become Hokage.”

She pauses for dramatic effect.

“I know, I know. I thought he was going to tell me he wanted a family. I just don’t know. Sometimes I feel like he has so much love for the village that he forgets to spare any for me.”

She clutches the bottom of her tunic tight.

“What am I saying, Neji-niisan? He’s a busy person, right? I just, when I saw Sakura-chan the other day, some things she said made me think, is all. I think she’s happy with Sasuke-kun. I hope she is. They both deserve it. She just seems so sure of herself. And lately, I’ve been finding myself feeling closer and closer with her. It’s nice,” she smiles. “I haven’t had many friends outside of Shino-kun and Kiba-kun before. And Naruto, of course.”

A gust of wind ghosts over her shoulder and she pulls her jacket back over herself, noticing the sun’s position in the sky.

“Oh, I should be getting back home for lunch. It was nice to talk to you, as always.”

She heads back toward her home, quickly looking around with her byakugan activated to be sure that no one was listening to her conversation. She had certainly been more candid than intended.

Her mind is so stuck replaying the conversation on a loop that she barely notices where she’s going, and nearly barrels straight into Sakura, as if her conversation with her cousin had manifested her fellow kunoichi right in front of her.

“Hinata-chan!” Sakura exclaims. “How nice to see you twice in the week.” Hinata notices the way Sakura’s cheeks flush just a bit, and she must be remembering their last conversation. She probably still feels bad for the way she had been vulgar, but the truth was, Hinata had liked it. Too often, people thought of her as the shy, timid girl she had once been, and not the capable kunoichi and accomplished war veteran that she is. Sakura seemed to view her as that warrior, capable and strong, and it made Hinata feel warm inside in a way that she wasn’t used to.

“Sakura-chan,” she answers, smiling warmly, trying to show her that it was all alright. “Why don’t you come in for lunch? I was just going to…”

“Why don’t we go to Ichiraku?” Sakura asks. “I owe you for...being like that, last time.”

“No!” Hinata says. “No, you don’t owe me anything, you were fine. In fact, I had hoped that I could...talk to you again?”

“Oh!” says Sakura, looking surprised. “Well, of course. Still let me treat you to ramen? I know you can eat more of that than your husband can, so please don’t run up my bill too high.”

“I think I can settle for one or two bowls instead of forty-six, don’t worry,” she says, laughing. She liked that she was feeling more comfortable around her. She knew what people thought, that she didn’t like her husband’s teammate because she was a beautiful and capable woman that he was close to, but she wasn’t ever worried. Naruto loved her, and he hadn’t thought of Sakura like that since they were much younger.

A half-hour later found them sitting at a picnic table in the park, enjoying Ichiraku’s finest.

“So, what did you want to talk about? And again, I’m sorry if –”

“Please stop apologizing,” says Hinata, placing her hands on top of Sakura’s. Really, didn’t she realize how much Hinata needed this? “I am an adult, after all.”

“Oh, I know,” says Sakura, shoving a bit of noodles into her mouth. She did know, huh? They had spoken about orgasms, after all. Sakura is so intriguing! Hinata had never considered her as more than another kunoichi in the village, Naruto’s teammate, but she was a strong and smart and interesting woman. She found herself irresistibly wanting to know more, the mundane things; her favorite color, her hobbies, did she like to knit? To read? Was she a morning person or a night person? “So, what did you want to talk about?” she asks again.

“Well, last time we had spoken about...you know, being pleased in the bedroom.”

“Mmhmm,” Sakura demures, continuing to eat her ramen. Her lips are full and glossy around the chopsticks, her face devoid of any other makeup except mascara. Effortlessly beautiful.

“And about wanting children.”

“Yes,” Sakura agrees, not saying any more. Hinata had noticed the way that Sakura went silent and closed when Sasuke was brought up, and Hinata resolved to not ask her more about it, but she had to know about this.

“Well, I don’t suppose Naruto has told you that Rokudaime-sama wants Naruto to replace him when he steps down.”

“Ino had told me,” she admits, “but I hadn’t spoken to Naruto about it, I figured Kaka-sensei would want to himself.”

“Kiba-kun beat him to it,” says Hinata. “Naruto came and told me last night that he is going to be the Nanadaime Hokage.”

“You must be very proud of him,” says Sakura, but her eyes aren’t looking at Hinata’s. Why would this upset her? Surely she must be happy for her teammate.

“Well, that’s the thing, actually,” starts Hinata. “Sakura-chan...we’re friends, right? Or we’re getting there? I’m sorry to be burdening you with this.”

“Yes, Hinata,” says Sakura. “We’re friends! It’s nice to be getting closer to you.”

“Okay, well…” Hinata takes a deep breath. “Naruto apparently doesn’t want to have children, to have a family until after he has been in office for a few years.”

“That makes sense I suppose.”

“No!” says Hinata. “Sorry, I’m sorry. No, I mean – I hadn’t thought – I want a family, Sakura. I thought that’s what he wanted too.”

“Oh,” says Sakura softly. “I’m sorry, Hinata.”

“I just – I didn’t think he’d become Hokage so soon. And he’s right, isn’t he? He can’t be a full time Kage and a father who’s around often. I don’t know what I was thinking. This is his dream, it’s just…”

“Just?”

“Well, I’d like to have children. I love working with the children in the academy, and I’ve wanted to have a family, and I just...I don’t know, we got together so fast, I didn’t stop to think that...maybe Naruto and I have different priorities?”

Saying it out loud made it real. For months, Hinata had felt that he was constantly running through life, always going on the next mission, doing the next thing, and that she was just a stop in between. She’d thought he had been her primary motivation for _years,_ and maybe at one time, he had been. But she was a grown woman now. And her primary motivation was her own happiness.

“I’m...not really sure what to say, Hinata. I’m sorry that you’re feeling that way. I imagine that’s difficult.”

“Do you?” Hinata bites out, then immediately is filled with shame. What an ass! She had no idea what problems Sakura and Sasuke might be having.

“I know Sasuke would like children,” Sakura admits. “But I am very busy with my work at the hospital, and would prefer to spend more of my years working full-time before becoming a mother.”

“So you agree with Naruto?”

“No,” smiles Sakura. “No, I didn’t say that. Sasuke and I have problems, as every marriage does, Hinata.”

Of course they did. So maybe, this was alright.

“Does Sasuke make time for you?”

“In his own way,” Sakura says. “But that’s not what we’re here to talk about, is it?”

“I suppose not,” Hinata sighs. “I think I’m worried that maybe Naruto and I are going in different directions,” she admits, repeating what she had told her cousin earlier. “God, I’m a horrible wife for that, aren’t I?”

“No,” Sakura says, firmly. “No, Hinata, it’s okay to want different things. Not everything works out on the first try, hmm?” Her hand is on top of Hinata’s, and its presence is warm, grounding.

“But I love him! I do,” Hinata says, and she means it, she means it so hard that her heart bursts. But if she loves him, if she’s as infatuated with him as she always had believed herself to be, then why is she feeling so torn like this? It’s as if something is grasping at either side of her body and a sticky substance is stretching apart in the middle, pulling. These feelings had come rushing out of nowhere, just a month ago she hadn’t been feeling like this.

Then again, a month ago the Academy had been in session, and Naruto had been training as hard as ever, going on missions, and she had been feeling terribly alone, hadn’t she? She had commiserated with Iruka-sensei and Anko-sensei over it, and both of them were _single._ She was _married,_ god, she shouldn’t be feeling this way.

“I don’t doubt that,” Sakura says. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but loving someone doesn’t always mean it works.”

“How would you know that?”

Sakura doesn’t say anything, just smiles sadly. That’s the second time she’s alluded to having marital problems, maybe her marriage with Sasuke isn’t as happy as Hinata had previously thought. She imagines it can’t be easy, being married to a man so hated by everyone around her. Of course they want different things, of course that happens in marriages. Hinata wishes she was closer with Ino, or Temari, or any of the other married women in the village so that she could make sure that this was normal. Surely they could work through it, right?

And if they couldn’t, well, she had Sakura, didn’t she?

Oh! How had she just thought that? Sakura was another woman, surely she wasn’t thinking of her in place of her husband.

“I’m sorry, Sakura-chan, that was assuming too much,” she says, the blush in her cheeks rising again. How many awkward conversations could they have in a week?

“No,” says Sakura, and she sounds earnest, her green eyes clear and directly meeting Hinata’s. “No, it wasn’t. We deserve to be happy, don’t we?” She reaches up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Hinata’s ear, and Hinata ignores the way she shivers. She hasn’t felt like this since first dating Naruto, and pointedly ignores that fact.

“Yes we do,” smiles Hinata, trying her hardest to squish the strange feeling in her chest down and out through her stomach. What is it about Sakura, her magnetism, that makes her feel this way? “Thank you for lunch. And the conversation. I...really needed it. There’s only so many things I can talk to my cousin about, you know?”

“Your cousin?”

“Ah, Hanabi and I...we go talk to Neji a lot. I know it’s weird.”

“No! It’s not weird. I think that’s great. I know he hears everything you have to say.”

“Yes,” smiles Hinata. “Well, I need to be getting home, I’ve got some paperwork to go through now that the Academy has started back up.”

“Oh of course, I’m sorry for keeping you!”

“You didn’t,” Hinata says, hoping Sakura understands that. She enjoyed the other woman’s presence more than she could express. It felt like stepping into a warm bath after a long day. “I’m glad we’re getting closer, Sakura-chan, I hope we can see each other more often.”

“If I’m not at the hospital, my house is always open!” She runs her thumb over Hinata’s hand again before standing up. “I’d love to see you again soon. And I’ll be over with more shiso soon.”

“And I can bring you some flowers. The tsubaki have finally bloomed, and I just bought some new seeds as well.”

Flowers!? She sounded like a schoolgirl trying to get the attention of the coolest boy in class. What was she doing?

“I look forward to it,” Sakura says, placing a lock of hair behind Hinata’s ear again. Hinata feels her breath hitch. Sakura gathers up her bag and heads towards the door, shouting a last goodbye. “See you!”

 

* * *

 

 

The days do not pass slowly at work. Coordinating the new genin teams is difficult work, balancing out the skills of the students in order to make effective three-man squads. It makes her reflect on her own days at the academy, which in turn makes her remember the way she would watch the other girls, the less shy girls with envy. Which of course, makes her think of Sakura. And Sakura now, grown up, a jounin, a medic-nin who has surprised even the legendary sannin Tsunade.

Hinata’s conversations with Sakura are becoming a habit, and throughout the week she has found herself taking the long road home to pass by the hospital so that she may catch a moment with the other woman. Despite these frequent chats, their conversation over ramen from a few days ago remains on her mind.

_Loving someone doesn’t always mean it works._

Hinata’s stomach squirms as she thinks about it, and the way Sakura’s lips had formed around the words.

An uncomfortable but not unwelcome heat pools between her legs as the images continues through her mind. Hinata thinks of her slender and elongated hands, the rippling muscles in her arms, the way they might hold her so tenderly.

A pain ruptures in her lip, pulling her back to the surface, far from where she had been, and she realizes it is a pain she had inflicted on herself, her own canine tooth biting down in the way that she does when her mind starts to run particularly fast. She hurries down the path back to her own home, the houses and shops passing in a blur beside her. Soon enough, her garden comes into view, and with one last look at the now-blooming tsubaki in her garden, she hurriedly rushes inside, as if it’ll get her away from the pool of shame filling her gut.

She touches her cheek as she makes her way up the stairs, quickly and lightly as if she is on a mission, imagines she can still feel the ghost of Sakura’s touch there. Her lips had been so close, so that Hinata could see that they were chapped but looked soft, gloss smeared over them.

It’s as if her thoughts were passing through her mind at a mile a minute, the room passing in a blur around her. Surely everyone can see through the brick wall into this room, can’t they all see her and the thoughts she’s having? She barely registers the carpet under her feet, reaches out to touch the wall as she collects her step.

She comes to in the bathroom; her face is slightly sweaty and her cheeks are flushed as she splashes water onto them. Had she noticed other girls in this way? When Tenten threw a shuriken – or when Ino’s nimble fingers formed a hand seal? Had she watched the other girls in the academy as she hid within herself?

Had she watched – _Sakura,_ gods, Sakura, with her open and honest face and rapid-fire wit and charming speech and just – ! She had a husband! _Sakura_ had a husband, and they loved them!

But as Hinata’s hand absentmindedly makes it to her waistband as if teasing herself, the way Naruto might after they’ve both had a few glasses of sake and neither has work the next day, she wonders – can this really be _wrong?_

If Sakura touched her there – if she just – if she pushed Hinata back onto the bed, the way Hinata backed herself up now, toeing off her sandals as she went, falling when she hit the base of the bed and tumbling onto the end of it, awkward and uncomfortable. Would Sakura place her arms under her, lift her till she had Hinata laid out like she wanted her?

She would, surely, anyone as confident and as smart and as wonderful and as generous as Sakura would, would start by kissing Hinata and murmuring how lovely she was, and what did she want?

 _Yes,_ Hinata thinks, hand under her panties for the first time since she was a teenager, absentmindedly playing with her pubic hair. _Yes, Sakura-chan, I would like that,_ she breathes in the fantasy her mind has conjured, the one where Sakura is above her and her hands are on Hinata’s breasts, playing and fondling and _would you like me to suck on them? Do you like that?_

 _I would,_ she would respond, and the feeling in her pussy is stronger than she’s ever felt it while alone before, and as she slips a curious finger between her folds, she finds herself wet without any stimulation.

 _Sakura, Sakura,_ she giggles, _you can touch me down there._

And she does, she does, as Hinata brings her fingers up to her mouth, sucking two of them in and tasting herself. Sakura asks if she tastes as good as she thinks she does and Hinata flushes with pleasant embarrassment, another ripple of heat straight through from her chest to her pussy. She eases her fingers in, swiping up the sides as she goes, getting them slick with a mixture of her own pussy juice and her spit, pressing into herself further.

 _Hinata, you’re so wet,_ Sakura says, a devious look on her face. _I could add my own flavor to the mix, huh?_ And she’s leaning down and her tongue is on Hinata’s clit – yes, there, if she touches her clit with the just the right amount of finger it can surely be Sakura’s tongue, teasing at it, kneading harder when she hits the spot that makes her keen out with a moan she didn’t believe herself capable of making.

Her cunt feels as if it’s vibrating, two fingers from her left hand had made themselves into her mouth and then inside of her at some point, thrusting inside of her while her right hand continued to play at her clit.

Sakura would fuck her like this, she knows, as she writhes on the bed beneath her vision of her beautiful friend, sight obscured by the pink of her hair, by the glistening of her pussy, by the unmistakable pleasure coursing through her body, starting and ending at her cunt.

 _Can I touch you?_ She asks, and Sakura runs a finger through her hair, the thin locks spread out on the bed behind her, her breasts flopping over to each side, and Hinata can see herself how this specter of Sakura might, allows herself to believe she looks as beautiful as she feels like this.

 _I want you to finish first,_ Sakura says, before leaning back down. _Wouldn’t you like to come, Hinata-chan?_

Her tongue is back inside of her now, hitting the spot that she _craves_ so desperately over and over and _over_ till she’s unraveling, moaning her lover’s name –

“Sakura, Sakura, I am, I’m coming,” she murmurs aloud, her pussy shaking as she continues to rub at herself, through the first wave of the orgasm, and then through to the second, the one that flushes through her clit and makes her feel as if she might let some liquid loose. “Oh, _oh,”_ she continues, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes.

She lays back on the bed, scrambling under the covers to cover herself, counting her breaths until they return to a normal rate, imaging as she does that Sakura is rubbing her arm softly, her pert nose pressed into the junction between Hinata’s neck and shoulder.

She loves her husband and he is a good man, but as her hand makes its way back to her mound, back to teasing around down there, she shamefully wonders – when was the last time he had made her come like that? When was the last time he asked what she _wanted,_ and not just if she liked it?

Her hand comes to a slow stop and her heart rockets to her throat as the answer comes to her, clear as the late-afternoon sun breaks through her window now – he never had.

Hinata doesn’t lay around – _can’t_. She scurries from the bed like it might burn her and dresses without bothering to clean herself. It feels like something in her has shifted terribly, maybe permanently, like she has broken a bone she didn’t know she had. Her first thought is that if she doesn’t move she’ll crawl out of her skin, and her second is that she _cannot_ see Naruto, not right now.

It’s nowhere near the time she’s expecting him to be back, but she can’t chance it. She doesn’t think she can look him in the eye so soon after coming to the thought of his _female_ teammate. She feels like she needs to run, and almost has to laugh at herself. Instead she grabs her shoes and a basket and the bundle of tsubaki flowers that she had just put into a vase this morning.

She had promised that she would take some to Sakura, hadn’t she?

And it’s not that she thinks that seeing Sakura is exactly a fantastic idea right now, but it’s her only idea. Her only option, really. Hinata wants to go and look her in the face, see if what she had been feeling in her bed had really been about Sakura or just the idea of her. A fleeting moment of insanity brought on by the softness of her fingertips on Hinata’s cheek after so long only being touched by her husband. Maybe she’d spent so long being a wife she’d just forgotten how to be a friend. A simple case of crossed wires. Wouldn’t that be nice, she thinks to herself as she strides through town, clutching the basket tight to her body.

She’s only halfway through the square when she hears her name and turns as a deer would to the whistle of an arrow. She feels like her thoughts must be pouring out of her and spilling all around, marking her somehow so that others can see what she has spent her afternoon thinking about.

“Hey, don’t ignore us, Hinata-san!” Anko calls, waving at Hinata from where she is perched on a bench next to Iruka.

Hinata ducks her head in greeting and goes over to where she has been called. Her skin prickles, but she can’t imagine being so rude as to ignore her colleagues and friends.

“Will you join us to celebrate the end of the first week back?” Iruka smiles at her fondly and inclines his head.

“Oh,” Hinata says, smiling and shaking her head, “I’m not sure if I should. I have, um, some errands to run this afternoon.”

“I see,” Iruka says, always lovingly nosey. He gestures towards the flowers in her basket. “From the Yamanakas?”

Hinata flushes with a sudden, small pride. “They’re from my garden, actually.”

Anko looks delighted. “They’re lovely! You’ve improved since last year, huh?”

“Don’t tease her too harshly,” Iruka cautions, “you know how she is.”

“More dangerous than she looks.”

Iruka shuts his eyes and nods sagely. “Exactly.”

“Iruka-sensei, Anko-sensei…”

“I know,” Iruka interjects. “You have errands to run. But won’t you at least join us for a cup of tea and a piece of cake? You did just finish your first week as genin class coordinator.”

“We also won’t hear of you trying to pay. Or trying to get out of it. We can get a glass of water for the flowers. Although they do look like they’ve already been in one, don’t you think Iruka?”

Hinata’s stomach is finally beginning to settle. The idea of running straight to Sakura terrifies her a little, now that she’s had a moment to calm down.

She agrees, and the three of them cross the square to a small café with adorable white-trimmed windows and spider plants hanging in colonies from baskets all around the main room. They buy her tea and a plate of charming little red bean cakes, dusted in powdered sugar. Hinata’s _favorite_ sweet is dango, but the cakes are perfect and crisp on the outside and the red bean inside is still warm and makes her want to lick it right out of the dough.

Once she’s finished, they all relax into their seats and drink steadily on the pot of tea. Hinata thinks briefly how lucky she is to have friends who treat her to food so often. It warms her heart and makes her feel loved, until it brings her back to the memory of staring into Sakura’s eyes.

Anko chuckles and taps the table. “Where did you go, Hinata? Was the cake that good?”

“No, I’m sorry, I’ve just had a long week.”

“Mm, I hear that. The first week back in class is always the longest.”

Hinata nods.

Iruka leans back in his chair casually, looking for all the world like a carefree jounin instructor rather than the head of the Konohagakure Ninja Academy. “Say, you didn’t tell us. Who are the flowers for?”

And if Hinata thought the memory of ramen with Sakura was dangerous territory, the thought of presenting her with flowers is something else entirely. She fights the urge to let her voice be meek. There’s nothing strange about bringing flowers to a friend. “They’re for Sakura-chan.”

“Oooh,” Anko says. “Is she... _well_?” Her inflection is strange, almost hesitant, and Iruka slaps her arm gently with the back of his hand.

“That was crass.”

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad. I can _be_ crass.”

Hinata hides her mouth behind her hand. Their relationship is so strange it never ceases to amuse her. Iruka and Anko act like an old married couple, but as far as Hinata knows they’ve never been together. She thinks they would be good together. Then again, she also thought Sakura and Sasuke would be good together, and yet it seems there was plenty she was wrong about there.

“She’s doing well, I think, working very hard at the hospital.”

“And she doesn’t have a reason to be a patient there, ne?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Anko and Iruka both _hmm_ to themselves and return to sipping their tea, perfectly in sync. Maybe, Hinata realizes, it’s not that they act like an old married couple but a couple of siblings who know each other inside and out. It makes her chest clench. She misses Neji.

“Iruka-sensei, Anko-sensei, thank you for the cake. It was very sweet of you to treat me.”

“Of course, Hinata, you really did work hard this week!”

“And unfortunately, it’s not going to get any easier.”

“That said, we can’t be buying you cake every week, so…”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Hinata says, “I’m sure I’ll be treating one or both of you soon enough.”

“Is that ambition I hear in your voice? Iruka, you may need to watch your back. Hinata-san is coming for the director’s chair!”

“It’s about time. I’m starting to get old waiting.”

Just when Hinata is beginning to untangle all of the threads around her, of course Iruka would add this into the mix.

Anko ribs him gently. “There are creams for that, you know.”

He avoids her gaze and meets Hinata’s eyes over his teacup. Although he jokes with her plenty, he’s not kidding about this.

Hinata’s head spins as she sits with them and finishes the tea. Yesterday all she had been able to think about was Naruto and the problem of starting a family. But what if _she_ gets a promotion? Would she be able to handle running the academy and taking care of a baby at the same time? But would she even be able to seriously consider turning Iruka down if he offered her his position?

Sakura was right about marriage being complicated. _Everything_ was complicated.

Hinata thanks Anko and Iruka again for their generosity and takes up her basket, heading out of the square towards Sakura’s house. As if this whole thing weren’t complicated enough… But Hinata is much calmer than before, and she’s sure now that if she goes to see Sakura she won’t have half the reaction she was so afraid of earlier.

After all, she had just had a perfectly pleasant conversation with Iruka and Anko, and she had had a terrible crush on Iruka for _years_. Whatever had gotten into her must have worked its way out. And besides, she really needs Sakura’s advice about her work.

It doesn’t occur to Hinata that Sakura might not even _be_ at home until she’s there, hand hovering over the door. It’s too late, she’s already knocked.

Then there is Sakura in the doorway, hair disheveled and pulled back, green eyes bright in the late afternoon sunlight, and Hinata doesn’t even have room to think about running again.

“Hinata! Hi!”

“Hi.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you, I’m sorry if things are a mess. I just got home from the hospital a little while ago.”

“That’s alright,” Hinata says, “you don’t have to do anything special for me.”

“I should at least be a good host. Come in.” Sakura steps to the side and motions Hinata inside so that she has to walk past her for Sakura to close the door behind them. She smells slightly of antiseptic and sweat, but also sweet and woodsy, like she’s just changed into fresh clothes but hasn’t yet had a chance to shower.

It reminds Hinata that she hasn’t showered either, not since this morning and not after touching herself. Did she even wash her hands? Oh, god, she hadn’t thought about that at all before but what if her fingers– What if Sakura touches her hand and can tell? Hinata hooks her palms together, clasping and unclasping them in front of herself while Sakura leads her to the kitchen and tells her to have a seat.

Sakura puts water on to boil and sets about grabbing cups from the cabinets, stretching on her tiptoes to reach the back. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything to eat. Sasuke hasn’t come back with the groceries yet and we’re running low on snacks.”

Hinata tries not to think too admiringly about Sakura’s jaw as she tilts her head. She looks away, into her hands where they are knotted in her lap. “Please don’t worry about it, you already bought me lunch and Iruka and Anko just took me for cake, so I’m really not hungry and I would be too embarrassed to turn you down if you did have anything to offer.”

Sakura leans on the counter, looking at Hinata with a small smile, and she realizes that she’s rambling.

“S-so it’s probably best that you don’t anyways.”

“Even so, it’s rude of me not to offer you anything, so I’ll have to make it up to you.”

“The tea is plenty,” Hinata says. She wants to cross her legs, to jiggle her knee, to do _something_ to distract herself from staring at Sakura.

“Are you on your way somewhere else?”

“Huh?”

“The flowers,” Sakura says. “Are they from or for? Bringing a gift to Naruto?”

The flowers! Hinata had completely forgotten she had them. They were the whole reason she was here! Supposedly. “They’re for you!”

Sakura’s eyes go wide and her easy smile drops away, her mouth forming a surprised little ‘O’. “That’s, that’s very sweet, thank you.”

“You brought me those herbs. I thought I should bring something for you in return.” Of course, Sakura hardly needed flowers. She had plenty of her own in her garden, which Hinata had just walked through.

“You’re a very thoughtful person, Hinata.”

“Well you’re very sweet, Sakura. You compliment me too much.”

“I mean it.”

Hinata suppresses a cough. She thinks, _I know you do, that’s the problem_.

“Besides,” Sakura continues, “I don’t think I compliment you too much. If anything I’ve been a bit of a thorn in your side.”

“I think we’ve already had this conversation.”

“Which one?”

“The one where you apologize too much and I have to ask you to stop.”

“Would you like to have it again?”

Hinata’s mouth opens and closes. She wants to laugh and to shut her eyes tight and run out of the house and never, ever leave it. “I don’t know.”

“Oh.” Sakura’s voice drops a little, almost like she’s disappointed and Hinata’s heart hammers in her chest. She looks up to find Sakura staring at her hands, looking so intent she can almost feel it on her skin.

“I just mean, do we have to talk about our husbands this time?”

Again, Sakura’s eyes go wide, but it’s very quick. If Hinata weren’t already watching her face, she would have missed it. With anyone else she would feel like she has to correct herself, explain that she only meant it was nice to be out of the house. But with Sakura she doesn’t want to step in and ruin it.

“No,” Sakura says, her voice cracking slightly. “We don’t have to talk about our husbands.”

So they don’t.

Hinata tells Sakura about her work, about what Iruka said that afternoon and how it worries her. And also excites her, but mostly worries her. She wants to do it, to follow in Iruka’s footsteps, but she can’t help but be reminded of her childhood fears. She had never wanted to be clan leader. And she knows it’s not forever, but there’s something similarly frightening about leading the Academy. She likes getting to see the genin, but she likes being behind the scenes more.

Sakura validates her fears, agrees that being in charge is frightening and Hinata thanks her. She doesn’t know if she believes that Sakura has really ever felt frightened by anything, but Sakura gently reminds her that she hasn’t always been the way she is. She used to cry more than Naruto.

The idea is funny, but it also makes Hinata sad. She had always assumed Sakura was confident, considering how skilled she was when they were genin. Sometimes she had hated her for that, back when she considered herself weak. It hurt her now to think that they could have always been friends. They had been dealing with some of the same things and never even known it.

“Sometimes it just feels like… I don’t know, like there’s so much lost time,” Hinata says.

“How do you mean?”

“Just that I wish I had known better, we could have always been friends.”

“I didn’t know any better, either. Honestly, I don’t know if I really want you to have known me at that time.”

Hinata is taken aback. “You don’t mean that!”

“I do and I don’t. I was very...confused when I was young. I don’t miss it.”

“Hm, I guess you’re right about that. I definitely felt confused, too.”

“Funny how time changes that.”

“Time. War.”

“All of it.”

They’re sitting on the couch now in Sakura’s living room, turned slightly to face each other as they talk. Sakura’s arm is up on the back of the cushions, her index finger absently drawing patterns in the fabric there. Hinata hadn’t even noticed until now, but there’s no more sunlight streaming in the windows. It’s practically night.

“Oh, shit,” Hinata says. “Don’t look so surprised, I can curse, too.”

“I know you _can_ , I just didn’t know you _did_.”

Hinata slaps Sakura playfully on the arm. “Well now you do. I should really go. I never made anything for dinner. I hope Naruto hasn’t starved.”

They return to the kitchen for Hinata’s basket to find Sakura’s teapot still on the stove, water all boiled away. They’d been talking so intently they hadn’t even thought to come back and make the tea.

Sakura mutters to herself as she takes the pot off the heat and fetches an empty vase from the counter. She arranges the flowers stem by stem, taking them out of the basket with careful, dextrous fingers.

“There,” she says. “They’re beautiful.”

“What about these?” There are still three flowers in the basket. The vase will surely fit them.

“Those are for Neji-san. You said that you like to visit with him, so I thought, well, I shouldn’t keep them all to myself, should I? Tell him hello for me next time you see him.”

 _You’re a very thoughtful person_ , Sakura had said to her. Hinata wants to throw that back in her face. _She’s_ the thoughtful one. Maybe the most thoughtful person Hinata has ever known. She wants to throw her arms around Sakura’s neck and _thank_ her for that. No one else has ever thought to give a gift to Neji. No one else has ever told her to say hello to him.

Before she can think, Hinata reaches out for Sakura’s hand. Sakura seems to freeze, her eyes going even wider than before. She is so beautiful like this, in the warm light of her kitchen with her eyes looking into Hinata’s eyes. There is fear in them but also something Hinata cannot place, although she recognizes it. Sadness, maybe, or hope. Hinata’s chest seizes. She wants to erase that fear, to ease it with every inch of herself because she knows it. Hinata wants to press her mouth to Sakura’s mouth. She wants to kiss her right here in her kitchen.

Hinata’s stomach falls clear through her to the floor and something hot pricks at the backs of her eyes. She feels dizzy and light and like she might collapse or explode or both. She needs to go before she does something irreversible.

_But–_

But she is willing to bargain. She cannot leave Sakura looking that way.

Hinata is practically breathless when she says, “I will. Thank you, Sakura-chan,” and kisses her on the cheek. It’s not enough. It’s already far too much. She looks down and removes her hands from Sakura’s body.

Taking up her basket in trembling fingers, Hinata considers the three remaining flowers with what is left of her shattered ability to reason. She removes two of them and places them down on the table.

Sakura sounds winded, like she has just gone into battle, like she is returning just now from the front line. “What are those for?”

“You should give them to him yourself, if you can. He’ll– He would appreciate it.”

“Okay,” Sakura says, nodding. “Thank you. I will.”

Hinata tries not to seem like she’s running for the door as she goes, but her head is swimming too much to stick around. She stops at the last moment and turns to face Sakura one last time.

Or, no. She stops and hopes with every fiber of herself that it is not the last time. “Come by soon, please. I need to see you again.”

Sakura goes red in the face, but speaks with surprising evenness. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Hinata says, “I need to see you. Soon, please. If you– If–”

“Yes,” Sakura says, her whole face opening like a door. Like a flower. “If you mean– It’s just that, it could be–”

 _Dangerous_. For them, for everyone.

“I know. I don’t care. Please come.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Sakura takes her hand and brings it to her mouth. She returns Hinata’s kiss – so gently – to her knuckles. A look of pain crosses her face as she closes the door between them.

Hinata knows she should go home right away. Naruto is probably waiting on her terribly worried about where she’s gone and whether she’s coming back. But Hinata needs a moment before she can go back to being a perfectly good and normal wife. She has to– to do something, to tell someone.

She finds herself at Neji’s grave again. It’s been a long time since she visited him at night and it’s hard to see his headstone from where she usually stands, but she needs to. She wants to see his name. She needs to lean in close to say this.

“Neji-niisan,” her voice comes out in a whisper as she kneels on his grave. “Neji-niisan, I’m sorry for coming to you so late. And I’m sorry for only bringing you one flower. But I’m– I have to tell you something. I don’t know if you’ll understand me, but I can’t hold it in.” Hinata searches for the words, but she can’t find them. They’re all too blunt or too strange or just insufficient. Hot tears finally begin to leak from her eyes, brought on by a sudden feeling of intense frustration.

“I don’t know how to say it, but I think I’m– I think I’m falling in love again. I know it sounds crazy, and I hope you’ll understand, but I think I’m falling in love with one of Naruto’s teammates.” Her throat clogs up and she chokes on the words. “It’s– It’s not Sasuke.”

Hinata falls forward, pressing her head against Neji’s headstone. She whispers the words so softly she can barely hear them. “I think I’m falling in love with Sakura-chan. I don’t know what to do. Please help me. If you still love me, niisan, please help me. Tell me what to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! We'll see y'all in the new year with the next chapter on 1/1. Can you guess who our POV character will be? : )))


	4. Sasuke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all and welcome back! Happy new year! This chapter is slightly shorter than the previous three (around 4.4k instead of 7k), but please don't worry, Sasuke gets more airtime later! As we near the end of this work, some things happen very quickly and we needed to be able to hop between different POV's in quick succession to maintain the timeline. 
> 
> That also brings up something we want to make sure we're clear on before this fic concludes: This work will NOT end with resolution for our four mains. As you may have noticed, this fic is listed as the first work in a series, and as such it serves as the opening act of a much longer story that we are already working on. 
> 
> We hope that you enjoy the remaining 10k of this fic anyway, though! And we hope to begin posting the second work of the series sometime in February.

**Chapter 4: Sasuke**

 

Sasuke hears his wife come in just as he finishes setting the first course of their dinner. They have a way of doing that now, after two years of this. They don’t spend much time speaking to each other, so other ways of knowing have to fill the silence. He can hear the clattering as she shuts the door and raps the toes of her sandals on the genkan step. Sakura doesn’t move through their house quietly, but treats it with a loud, clumsy love, which Sasuke supposes is her right as its legal owner.

Where another wife would say _I’m home!_ and another husband would answer back _Welcome_ , she merely shuffles on her slippers and comes to meet him where she knows he will be, in the dining room.

Immediately, Sasuke sees that something has changed. She breathes in the smell of their dinner deeply, her eyes fluttering closed and a small smile gracing her lips as her lungs fill with the scents of miso broth and grill char. The color is high in her cheeks and her hair is slightly wilder than usual. Even her steps are looser and wider, showing a freedom in her hips. _Ah_ , he thinks. He knows that look. She’s just come, right before the walk over, and the afterglow is still fading. From the look on her face Sasuke wonders if her cunt is still twitching.

He stands beside his seat, across from hers at the table, and carefully, carefully feels nothing. A heavy-lidded box inside him opens and shuts. “I hope your day was fruitful.”

“Thank you. It smells delicious. Shall we eat?”

“Of course. That’s why I cooked.”

Sakura folds herself into her seat and Sasuke follows suit. He pulls a pin from the collar of his yukata and folds his empty sleeve up to his shoulder. He threads the pin through to hold it in place and if it pierces his shoulder on the first pass, he doesn’t feel it.

The first course is rice and miso soup, something simple and warm to prepare the palate and the stomach for the rest of the meal. Sasuke has already set it out before their places along with all necessary utensils. Sakura’s eyes flash as she takes it in, her hunger easy to see. She has been busy, after all.

She claps her hands together gently and offers her thanks. “Itadakimasu. Thank you for the meal, Sasuke.”

He nods and takes up his spoon. The soup and rice passes by in silence, then comes the first round of sake. Sasuke serves it to the both of them but leaves his cup as he returns to the kitchen to fetch their next course.

Sakura’s eyes go wide as she recognizes what is on the platter before her. A dozen small filets overlap like the petals of flowers, translucent and pink-white with a sliver of red in one corner.

“Hamachi?”

“Hn,” Sasuke replies.

“This is– Wow. It’s beautiful.” The sashimi is laid painstakingly and almost seems to glow in the light of the dining room. Sasuke knows that each piece has been cut perfectly. Tender and substantial, but not more than a bite.

“It was nothing.”

“Oh,” Sakura says, chopsticks pausing in the air halfway to the platter.

Sasuke’s eyes flicker up to hers, warning. _Don’t._

“I didn’t know you learned to cut fish. It looks incredible.”

“Thank you,” Sasuke says, hoping that ends the discussion.

“It must have taken a lot of time out of your afternoon.”

It had taken a year to learn to do properly. But yes, even now it was time-consuming. He had pulled the hair back from his face with a comb and bent himself in half at the waist. He spent nearly an hour at the counter like that, using the end of his left arm to hold down the fish as one would use their free hand while cutting with the other.

Of course, he has served her sashimi before, but had always let her believe it was from a stall, some novice chef or fishmonger with ideas above his station. Now the truth comes out. Not a fishmonger, just a one-armed outcast with too much free time.

He doesn’t answer her. The recognition or provocation – whatever it is, he doesn’t need it. He doubts she does either, already smelling of spring air and fresh sex. The box inside of him shakes and flies open, and he cannot help it, he grips his chopsticks hard in his hand.

“It was nothing, I’m sure, compared to yours.”

He can feel the way she stares but he doesn’t care. Who was she with, he wonders? Who else in the village is like them, like her? Tenten, perhaps? Or the Inuzuka heir, Hana? Or maybe she’s drinking from the same cup as him, fucking a married woman. It’s hardly a secret that she respects Temari’s prowess, and he has seen the way she looks at her sometimes in public, when Shikamaru isn’t at her side to see. But if it’s a matter of respect, then why not Shizune? Why not her idol, the perpetually single Tsunade? She could have been doing it for years, if that’s the case, but smarter than him of course, capable of keeping a secret. Or it could be another older woman. Anko or Kurenai or any one of the nameless kunoichi she doubtless sees on a daily basis that he knows nothing about.

He never sees the look of confusion on her face.

After the sashimi comes the main course, salt-grilled mackerel, but it’s beginning to go cold by the time it makes it to the table. That they eat also in silence, Sasuke still finding himself capable – barely – of maintaining that unspoken rule between them: don’t. Just don’t speak of it. If it remains in silence it can’t destroy them. That is the agreement they made the day she found out about Naruto, finding him naked on their couch just after Naruto passed her on the path.

_Don’t_ , was all he had said.

And she said back, _Don’t what?_

_You see_ , he had said. A full sentence. _You see._

_I saw nothing,_ she had replied. _And if I had, who is to say I’m not the same? We all have secrets. There’s nothing to say._

_But you_ see _._

_Maybe I do._

After the mackerel is tsukemono, a salad of pickled radishes and cabbage, and another cup of sake. A palate cleanser.

“I’m sorry,” he says coldly as he fills her glass a second time. “A better husband would have made you dessert.”

Sakura shakes her head and drains her cup. “I don’t have the sweet tooth I used to.”

She cleans the kitchen while he undresses for bed and lies down. It’s hardly that late, but there is simply nothing else left to be done, and she has to be awake at dawn for her shift at the hospital tomorrow. Ordinarily Sasuke would stay awake and read or sketch, but his head is swimming too much and he feels bad for his behavior at the dinner table.

He should at least be kind. He loves her, of course. They’re family. And he almost likes her, but their marriage stands between them like a wall. Of course she won’t tell him. She knows about Naruto, but he’s never spoken of it since that first day. He’s never brought those tears to her shoulder because he cried the last of them years ago. Sasuke had always thought that his...arrangement with Naruto was enough cruelty on its own, to share the burden of it would just be sadistic.

It puts a bitter taste in his mouth to think that Sakura might feel the same about her own arrangement and that bitterness carries him off to sleep as much as Sakura’s arms around him do.

His second-to-last thought before drifting off is that she deserves better. Better than him and better than a clandestine affair.

His last thought is that they are deluding themselves if they believe better will ever come.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Sasuke wakes, Sakura is gone from their bed. He reaches out his arm and runs his fingers over the sheets there to find her space cold and the blankets rumpled.

For the first few weeks of their marriage, she would tiptoe out of the room in the early hours only after having righted the sheets and blankets on her half of the bed. He remembers because of the tugging sensation, the way he would wake with a silent jolt, feeling like someone was trying to move his body in his sleep. He kept quiet until he couldn’t take it, sitting up and jerking the sheets from Sakura’s dumbfounded hands.

Sakura, always going the extra mile. Always trying to be a good housewife while she also worked harder than anyone else at the hospital, always trying to take care of him. Well, he could take care of himself. It was all he had left to do.

_Don’t do that_ , Sasuke had said.

_I’m sorry._

_It wakes me. And I can take care of it._

_I’m sorry._

_Stop apologizing. You’ll be late._

And that had been that.

Except that’s not quite true, Sasuke thinks as he turns over and at last opens his eyes. For the first few weeks of their marriage, they hadn’t shared a bed at all. That hadn’t come until after Sakura knew. About Naruto and about the nightmares. And, bizarrely, it had helped. They both slept better after, knowing the other was there. Sasuke couldn’t possibly understand why, beyond the animal instincts they shared as shinobi. When you sleep alone you sleep in danger. A partner eases the way, even if she is a mongoose and you are a viper.

He considers this as he rises and slowly dresses. If he is a viper, then he is one without venom. Or brains, being that he is in love with a fox.

Sasuke shakes his head out in the sink as he washes his face. Enough with the animal metaphors. Stupid. Childish. And he has work to do.

Once he’s clean, he goes downstairs to find fresh rice left out in a bowl on the counter. It’s nearly cold now. No matter. He cracks an egg into it anyways and eats it just like that, sticky and slightly savory, and contemplates his day.

First comes the sweeping, which is exhausting. He drags all of the dirt in the house from the front door to the back, gathering it from every room until he can pile it before the back door and let it out. He knows what a dustbin is, of course, but they’re difficult to use with just one arm, and today the idea of using chakra to make a broom sweep sounds too much like a parlor trick for his liking.

After that comes the wiping, which is also exhausting and makes his shoulder ache from carrying his weight back and forth across the floor. He cannot stand how his hair sticks to his face when he starts to sweat, so he ties it back in a ponytail that would make even Shikamaru cringe.

Once these things are done, he can begin to make choices again, because they are done and because he is tired enough that there isn’t room for anything else but a list. Groceries. The bathrooms. Linens. The front path. Other errands. These are comfortable, interchangeable shackles.

_What will it be today?_ He asks himself. _The toilets or the stares? Be sure to choose wisely, what you don’t do today, you will have to tomorrow._

It is a rare day that anyone comes to visit when Sakura isn’t home. Rarer even that it’s Naruto who darkens Sasuke’s doorway. And during these precious, lonely hours, it is Sasuke’s doorway.

The morning is gloomy and refusing to give way to the day, so he boils water and strips the bed and pays no mind when his palm stings from the heat of the cedarwood-scented bath. They have a washing machine, of course, but when he has so much time to kill, Sasuke doesn’t see the point. And besides, his mother never used appliances like that when he was young. He didn’t learn to use them until after the massacre. He finds now that he prefers to struggle with the linens in their tub than ruminate on struggling with his first machine at eight as he watches it spin.

Luckily, the sun is beginning to shine as they finish their clean-water soak, and Sasuke brings the sheets to the front yard basket by basket, where he hangs them on the line with quick, practiced motions.

“Maa, Sakura-kun is that you? I’ve never seen you clean before.”

The familiar voice sends a jolt straight through Sasuke. “Rokudaime-sama,” he says, pushing a fluttering white sheet out of the way so he can see Kakashi leaning on their low stone fence. He’s not wearing his Hokage robes, just his regular jounin uniform, and the only thing telling Sasuke that anything has changed between them is the way his hitai-ate sits straight instead of tilted. “I wish I had known you’d be gracing our house with your presence. I would have hidden the dirty laundry.”

“Ah, Sasuke,” he says, same as he always has. “Don’t worry. I doubt you have any I haven’t seen by now.”

For other people who are more afraid of him, Sasuke might laugh drily, but he’s not in the mood to entertain the idea that that is a threat. “I suppose that’s true.”

“So, is she around?”

Sasuke drops his gaze from Kakashi’s eyes and sets about his work again. Straightforward, mechanical. “No, today is a hospital day.”

“Jealous?”

“Hn. I know she does good work. Only a shallow man would be jealous of his wife’s accomplishments.”

Kakashi chuckles. “So you’ve finally grown up, huh?”

Sasuke looks down to his basket to find it empty. Ah, well, it was good while it lasted. He sighs. “Would you like to come in for tea, Kakashi?”

“I thought you’d never ask. Please, if you don’t mind. I hate to impose.”

“I’m sure,” Sasuke says as he fits his basket against his hip and leads them both through the door of his house.

As a child, he never had much respect for Kakashi as his teacher, and gods know that Sasuke has no respect for the title he now holds. But that’s not all Kakashi is to him, he supposes. At least right now, he’s an excuse to pause and have tea.

They sip in silence, Kakashi showing a surprising amount of restraint and not taking out a book to leaf through. It leaves Sasuke with the uncomfortable impression that his visit is intentional. Stranger, that he might be enjoying it.

As Sasuke pours the last of the tea into Kakashi’s cup, Kakashi finally speaks up.

“I should say, I didn’t come just to see your wife or impose on your hospitality.”

_Had me fooled, old man_.

“I’m going to be taking a trip next week out of the village, just a short one, and I’d like you to accompany me.”

“You have someone to intimidate, then?”

“And what makes you think you’d be the man for the job, huh? No. It’s board room stuff. I’m afraid I’ll be bored to death.”

“I thought you were immune.”

“Maa, still a pain in my ass. That’s why I want you along.”

Sasuke finishes his own tea and considers the offer. There’s not much to consider, really. A request from the Hokage isn’t really a request, not when you’re him.

“Thought you might like a week away from the stares, too. You can use a fake name, people won’t know your face.” Kakashi gestures, conjuring a backstory in the air. “Pretend you’re just another wounded vet with a desk job.”

He hates to admit it to himself but that sounds nice. A week away from the village means a week away from Naruto, too. And at the moment that sounds like a week at the spa. “Hn,” Sasuke says, and folds his hand under his chin.

“Ah, good, I thought you’d say yes.”

“Are you finished with your tea?” Sasuke asks. He stands up and gathers his own cup and saucer, and looks at Kakashi pointedy. Kakashi at least, has the sense to look sheepish as he finishes his own tea.

“I’ve got it,” Kakashi says, nodding at the dishes in Sasuke’s hand.

“I don’t need your help, Kakashi,” says Sasuke. Kakashi doesn’t back down, just looks back at him, one pale eyebrow arching.

“I’m being a good guest.”

“Fine,” says Sasuke, and makes his way over to the sink. “Leave them there, I still have to do the dishes.”

“What a good housewife you are,” says Kakashi, his eyes crinkling shut the way they do when he smiles, particularly pleased at himself. Sometimes, Sasuke wishes Kakashi had just kept him in prison, and not bothered pardoning him. It’s not as if he deserved it.

“Did you need something else? I have things to do. As you’ve mentioned, I am a good housewife.” The bite in his words would scare lesser men, but then, Kakashi has never been a lesser man. It’s why he’s bothering to have this conversation at all.

“Maa, no, that will be all,” he says. “I’ll see you next week, you can ask Shikamaru for details.”

“I’ll be sure to,” Sasuke nods curtly. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Rokudaime-sama?”

“Nothing at all, Uchiha-san” Kakashi demures, face blank. _Icha-Icha_ is in his hands now, earlier restraint gone, as he climbs up the windowsill above the sink and thumbs it open. “I’ll be seeing you.”

And he’s back out the window before Sasuke can say anything back, leaving him with a full sink and countertop to be cleaned.

 

* * *

 

 

The following afternoon finds Sasuke in the park; a rare chilly day in early spring. He doesn’t leave his house often, but the cold is a biting comfort, and the park is a nice place to find solitude. People always leave him alone when he graces the streets, but at the park they just avoid him instead of shrinking out of the way like he is emitting the contagions of a terrible disease, and that’s nice. Here, he can put the upcoming trip with Kakashi out of his mind. Leaving the village for a week sounded nice at the time, but spending a week with his old sensei and his penchant for uncomfortable and inconvenient truths does not.

He’s hunched over one of the tables in the park now, rocks on either side of his sketchbook to hold it open while he dips his brush in his inkwell and brings it to the paper, quick, careful strokes as he practices his calligraphy with his non-dominant hand. His only hand, now.

He had always been proud of his kanji; as a child, his mother had taught him to form the lines and shapes and he had taken to it in much the same way that he had taken to training, except with this, he had surpassed even Itachi. Not that it had mattered much to his father, but it had been a small comfort to him.

He didn’t have that anymore, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t work slowly to get it back. He just wouldn’t work on it where his wife could possibly figure out the painstaking efforts that he was making. He couldn’t take her enthusiasm any better than her criticism.

He supposes this would look ridiculous to anyone who saw him, but nobody will. In a village where he is a pariah, it is often easier to hide in plain sight than to hide where he should feel at home.

He works for nearly three hours, till the cramp in his hand becomes unbearable. Here, with just the background noise of the village and the chirping of the birds to distract him, it is easy to get lost in time and think of nothing at all, which is how he likes things best.

But, of course, he does think. And thinking leads to reflecting on his current situation and the unfortunate circumstances that had led him there. This is why he had wanted Naruto to die in the first place. He always knew that the other boy would be his great downfall. And here he was, now. An outcast, a fucking housewife, a gay man harboring that as a terrible secret, living under a system that he hated so much he tried to destroy it. No, the villages weren’t churning out child soldiers anymore, but they were still training children, ready to dispatch them to the battlefield the second another Kage or daimyo got it in their head to start a war.

And what of the terrible council who had wiped his family out of the village? For what? A bloodline limit that was out of their control? That council is still here; clan heads grow up and die out and others replace them but the politics never change.

And what was keeping him here? A boy that he loved, and the one woman who could understand that and not hate him. Family.

Now, his hand was shaking again, black splotches dirtying the crisp white pages of his neatly kept sketchbook. His fingers angrily curl around the ruined page as they tear it out, crumpling it and tossing it into the basket he keeps at his side. Three hours, fucking wasted.

“Sasuke-kun?” comes a tentative voice. He is so startled that someone would actually speak to him here, in public, that he nearly bats the inkwell off of the table in surprise. Hinata stands over him, looking curiously at what he is doing.

“Hinata,” he answers, inclining his head.

“It’s rare to see you out and about,” she notes, nodding to his calligraphy supplies and his basket.

“I have errands,” he says stiffly, offering no other information despite the fact that he has clearly been sitting here, not running errands. She does not deserve his rudeness, but he does not have to make niceties with her either.

“Were you heading to the market?” she asks, gesturing to her own empty basket. “I was just headed there.”

“No.” Well, he’s certainly not headed there now. It’s hard enough engaging with the public when he’s by himself. He has no wish to be the topic of gossip for entering the marketplace with Hinata.

“Oh,” she says softly, almost sounding like the hesitant genin he once knew her to be. He wonders if she thinks the same about him.

“I had planned on it,” he says, trying to be kind, but his voice still comes out emotionless. She is speaking to him, which is more than most people in this village can say. “But I ended up wasting time here.”

“Funny how that happens.”

Why is she able to be this way? So kind to him, who doesn’t deserve it. He has caused so much death and destruction, and maybe this whole goddamn village deserved what was coming to them for enabling the destructive whims of the political elite, but Hinata? All she had ever done was be born to a family that didn’t care for her, and loved the man he loved. In a world that would potentially see Sasuke as lower for being homosexual than they would for being an S-rank criminal, he should at least be grateful that Naruto could receive love in public. After all, wasn’t that what he needed? And couldn’t she give it to him?

“I often find myself lost in a good book,” she continues. He looks at her dully, wondering why she is still speaking with him. He grunts in response.

“I’m sure you’ve heard by now that Kakashi wants Naruto to be the next Hokage,” she says, switching the subject at his lack of answer.

He raises an eyebrow. No, he had not heard that. Of _course,_ though. Sasuke should have expected this, and he feels stupid for not considering it earlier, or thinking that Naruto would have run to him to tell him the news. Of course his idiot sensei and his idiot lover have it in their heads to lead this shithole village. Hinata sighs, still undeterred by his lack of response.

“Yes, I’m – I’m very proud of him. I’m sure Kiba-kun will be disappointed though. Tsume-sama had put Hana-san’s name in the council’s ear. They’ve been wanting an Inuzuka Hokage for years.” She’s rambling, and he has yet to say anything. She seems flustered, but he does not want to talk to Hinata and he especially does not want to be speaking about _this._

Outside of his wife’s blooming friendship with the woman and the fact that they sleep with the same man, he does not know her at all. He knows even less why she would want to make conversation with him now.

“It will be Naruto though,” she says, like she’s trying to convince someone. It certainly can’t be him. He has no trouble believing it. With Kakashi’s influence and the title of Hero on his side, Naruto’s a shoo-in. It will leverage Konoha great political safety, not that he gives a shit. Except, he thinks, as Sakura and Naruto’s faces loom inside of his mind, he does. “He’ll finally achieve his dream. Isn’t that exciting, Sasuke-kun?” she asks, and it hits him. She is genuinely curious about his thoughts, as her husband’s supposed best friend. She doesn’t know. She has no idea that they are lovers.

“Yes,” he responds, suddenly unable to be in her presence, feeling like he is tainting her with every breath he takes. “I’ll be going now.”

He turns, picking up his basket and sweeping away, his cloak following over his shoulders dramatically. As he walks the familiar path back to his home, he looks down, and sees that Hinata has slipped oranges into his basket. He hadn’t even noticed, that’s how weak he was now.

He opens the door, but not before carefully placing the oranges in the corner of Sakura’s garden. Maybe she’ll know what to do, can plant them, but right now his mind is somewhere else. He wouldn’t know where to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We had thought about posting chapters 5-7 simultaneously on the same three-day schedule as before, but decided instead to roll them out quicker.
> 
> So plan instead to see Chapter 5 tomorrow, Chapter 6 on Wednesday, and Chapter 7 on Thursday! 
> 
> Thank you as always for reading and kudos-ing! Your feedback means the world to us. <3


	5. Naruto Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today, we hope you all enjoy! Or, well, "enjoy" may not be quite the right word... I'll say this one is a 6/10 on the Shitty Naruto Scale.

**Chapter 5: Naruto Again**

 

Naruto didn’t intend to stay out so late, he really didn’t, but by the time he leaves the training ground it’s getting dark and he’s _exhausted_.

He’d gotten a late start that day after stopping by Sasuke’s house for an early lunch. And though that’s usually a very polite way of saying they fucked on the couch, this time they really did just have lunch. Sasuke prepared some rice and soup and they sat together for nearly an hour in nearly total silence. Sometimes it overwhelms Naruto when he’s like that, knowing how much he’s carrying underneath the quiet, but sometimes it’s nice. And in his own home Sasuke always seems less like he’s trying to hide something and more like he’s enjoying the peace it affords him.

Naruto had wasted too much of the afternoon there, gazing happily from across a table, and now he’s inexcusably late for dinner.

He scrambles up the side of the house and into the open window as fast as he can, determined to sneak in and plant a kiss on Hinata before she knows what’s hit her. He does feel bad, after all.

He gets his head inside before he realizes there are voices coming from the dining room. Hinata and...Sakura. Huh. Naruto freezes with one foot on the ground inside the window, craning his neck to look into the room where they’re seated across from each other at the dining room table. The smell of Hinata’s favorite curry fills the apartment.

“Thank you again,” Sakura says.

“Of course,” Hinata says. “I couldn’t bear the idea of it going to waste. And you seemed to like it so much last time…”

“You’re so generous. I can see why Naruto always comes home on time for dinner.”

“Ha, well. Not tonight.”

“That’s okay. I’m not above enjoying his mistake.”

“Sakura-chan, don’t be mean.”

“I’m not being mean! It’s his loss. I just hope he can forgive me for eating his wife’s curry from under his nose.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t worry. It’s my favorite, not his. I don’t think he likes my curry that much, anyways…”

Sakura hums and Naruto can hear the smile in her voice. It twists his stomach into knots. “Like I said. His loss.”

Naruto can only see Sakura’s face from where he stands, still and silent, his chakra masked. He sees that it’s true, she is smiling. There’s a soft sound as she slides a hand across the table, out of his view. Hinata makes a small noise of surprise. Sakura responds with a soft _hm_ and her eyes drift downward from where they were probably looking Hinata in the eye.

“It’s rude to tease a hostess at her own table, you know.”

“I thought you wanted me to stop apologizing so much.”

“I do, I’m just saying.”

“That I’m in your debt?”

Hinata is silent and Naruto– Naruto can feel his heart where it’s climbed up into his throat. He recognizes this kind of talk. The quietness of it, the way it doesn’t make any sense except that it absolutely does.

It’s the way he talks with Sasuke. He’s never heard Hinata talk that way, not with him. Could she–?

Suddenly he’s not hungry anymore. Not at all.

Sakura coughs from the dining room. “Well, I think I should go. Unless you want me here when Naruto comes back?”

Hinata says something that Naruto can’t quite hear.

“Okay,” Sakura says, getting up from the table. “Thank you again. This was very nice.”

“Thank you,” Hinata says, putting a slight emphasis on the _you_.

“Will I see you soon?”

“Probably, yes. I’ve been thinking I should go visit Neji-niisan soon.” _Neji?_ Naruto thinks.

“Oh!”

“You wouldn’t have to come, but…”

As if Naruto’s heart could drop any further. Hinata has never invited _him_ to join her when she goes to her cousin’s grave.

“No,” Sakura says in response, “I would love to.”

“Okay.”

“Well. Goodnight, Hinata-chan. Thank you again, for calling me. This was a very nice way to end the evening.”

“I’m going to have to tell you to stop thanking me, too, aren’t I?”

Sakura comes out of the dining room to the entrance way and Naruto finally withdraws, going back outside the window. There’s something he wants to try, something he needs to see for himself.

He drops down to the ground and waits until Sakura passes by on the street, headed back towards her own home. He knows the way well enough. He rubs at his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts. He had noticed that Hinata had mentioned seeing Sakura a lot lately. First Sakura had brought them something. Flowers or something like that. Then there was the day Hinata had visited her around dinner time, but still cooked for them both when she got back. Naruto doesn’t want to think about it, but he can’t help it now. He remembers she looked wild that night. Her hair loose and tangled about her face, her cheeks flushed a bright red.

Had she slept with Sakura that night? Had she been sleeping with her for a while now?

Naruto decides he’s spent long enough waiting. He should go in. He should give her a chance to explain herself.

He enters the genkan like he rarely does anymore and calls out to her in greeting. Can she hear the trepidation in his voice? He hopes not.

If she does, Hinata says nothing about it, welcoming him back with a kiss on his cheek and a bowl of warm beef curry and rice. He takes the place at the table where she had been sitting and she sits across from him, where Sakura had been. There is an empty cup on the table between them. Or maybe it’s a vase. Naruto shakes his head and claps his hands together.

“Itadakimasu.” He digs in, but of course Hinata doesn’t. She just sits across from him, looking perfectly relaxed. “So, you already ate, huh?”

“Mm-hmm, I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not. I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long. I lost track of time out there today.”

“That’s alright, I know you’ve had a lot to think about lately.”

_What does that mean?_ “Are you sure? You weren’t lonely?”

Hinata tilts her head, blinking. “What do you mean?”

“Did you have anyone over?”

Hinata’s calm facade collapses and she looks stricken. She’s always pale, beautifully so, but the blood drains from her face in a way that makes her look like she’s about to faint. Naruto knows that look, has seen it on Sasuke’s face a thousand times. Damn him. _Fuck_ him, he was right. “No, no I didn’t. Why?”

“Really?”

“Naruto?”

“Because I just saw Sakura-chan walking down the street.”

“I– Yes, Sakura-chan stopped by.”

“Then why not say so?” Except he knows why, he knows _exactly_ why.

“I– I don’t know. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

He feels itchy and hot all over. He doesn’t want to ask her this. He doesn’t want to even consider that it’s real, but he has no choice. He has to know. “Are you sleeping with her, Hinata-chan?”

Hinata’s mouth opens but she doesn’t even manage to say anything before tears begin pouring from her eyes. “How could– No, of course not.”

Naruto lays his palms down flat on the table and watches her, feeling tears prick at the backs of his own eyes. “Please don’t lie to me, Hinata.”

“I’m not. I’m not lying. We’re not– how could you think that I would–” She blubbers and covers her face.

“But you want her, don’t you?”

Hinata cries into the table, a single, soft sob, her shoulders shaking. He recognizes the sound of longing in it, right down to the way she tries to hold it in. He’s heard it in his own tears enough. A love no one will give you. Does she really think that of him? That he won’t love her enough?

“Please,” she says, voice wet and muffled. “Please, I’m a good wife.”

Naruto has nothing to say to that, but, like always, he can’t help himself. It’s all he can do to hold back his own tears. “I need to know. Please understand.”

The silence that follows is not cold but warm with the feeling of their combined distress. The air is vibrating with it.

At last, she raises her head and wipes at her red eyes. Her brows are tight, but her mouth is calm and straight. “Yes,” she says, “I do want her, like you want me. Like I’m not supposed to.”

Tears begin to spill from his eyes. He knows this is better than if they were together already because, somewhere deep down, he knows he has already done worse. “Okay,” he says, “Thank you for telling me.”

He hasn’t even eaten but he couldn’t care less. Naruto stands up from the table and goes down the hall to their guest bedroom. It’s tiny and dark and covered in dust because neither of them have had family to stay in it since they were married, but there’s a bed and a lamp and a chair in one corner.

Naruto can hear Hinata in the kitchen, already up, performing the same rituals they usually do together alone. He wonders if it will be this way for a while. He worries that it will be this way forever.

Naruto pulls the door shut behind him and lies down on the bed. He lies awake in his clothes, trying not to think of anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you tomorrow for a quick break away from the boys!


	6. Hinata Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! Sorry for the late post, I went to the gym after work and spent longer there than I realized!
> 
> Before posting this, I wanted to address all of the "Naruto is a hypocrite! How could he?" comments. If you're curious about his motivations/thought process, read on! I think they become a little clearer further into the story. However, we are more than happy to discuss our view of his character, so please feel free to reach out if you want to chat about this fic (about Naruto, or whatever!).
> 
> Just to note: Sakura and Sasuke's relationship is completely different than Naruto and Hinata's: theirs is a lavender marriage, they are completely aware that they are both gay and Sakura is well aware of, and okay with Sasuke having an affair (and in turn, he is okay with her hypothetical doing so). Sakura just thinks what Naruto is doing is shitty.
> 
> Hope that cleared some things up!
> 
> Now, we turn to look at how the girls are doing. Another short one today, about 2.3k, sorry about that! Hope you enjoy regardless!

**Chapter 6: Hinata Again**

Hinata pounds at the door fiercely, wind pulling through her hair as she stands on the doorstep to Sakura’s home. Part of her wants nothing to do with her ever again, wants to shove the very thought of her away and run far, far from the village. Wants to run until her feet carry her as far as the Land of Wind, take up hiding in the desert and have nothing to do with Konoha again. Perhaps then she could process and expel her shame, sending it away with the sand swirling in the wind.

And yet, a much deeper yet larger part of her must want to just be swept up into Sakura’s strong, capable arms and held, and for that she finds herself continuing to knock.

“Hinata-chan?” comes Sakura’s voice from behind her. Hinata turns so fast she nearly pulls a muscle in her neck, brightening a bit at the site of Sakura’s smile, her genuinely happy one, the one she reserves for Hinata. Sakura’s usual smile, Hinata knows now, is a demure one she puts on to show the villagers that she is trustworthy, smart, capable of being one of the top medic-nin at their hospital despite who she is married to. This large one, the one that pulls back her lips and shows all her teeth – that one is special. Sakura tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, reaching out her arms to curl them around Hinata’s waist. “Good to see you!”

Hinata recoils and deftly moves herself out of Sakura’s grip, gesturing with her head to the door, sure that her face is the color of ripe tomatoes.

“Not here,” she hisses. “People could – people could see!”

“People could see two friends hugging?” Sakura asks, seemingly innocent, but flirtatious. This is what had gotten her into trouble in the first place. “Well, then why don’t you come inside?”

She moves around Hinata to open the door, but the moment her fingers close around the doorknob, Hinata jumps and speaks again. Something is wrong.

“W-wait! Is Sasuke-kun home?”

“If he is, I’m sure he’s shut himself in his study,” she rolls her eyes, but Hinata shakes her head.

“C-can you find out, please?”

Sakura raises her eyebrows, but closes her eyes for a moment before saying, “Yes, he’s here.” 

“Okay,” Hinata whispers. “Can we please go somewhere private?”

“We can go to my office,” Sakura says, turning and beginning the walk back to the hospital, Hinata trailing along behind her, constantly ducking down as if she’s afraid someone will throw rotted fruit at them just for walking together.

When they reach the office, Sakura silently opens the door and gestures for Hinata to head inside first, which she does, immediately heading to the small couch and taking a seat, placing her hands on her knees and looking down. Sakura has not seen her look this scared in a long time.

“Okay, Hinata,” says Sakura, sitting next to her and putting a comforting arm around her. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? I haven’t seen you this upset before.”

“O-of course you haven’t!” says Hinata suddenly, with an unexpected flare of anger. “You’re not my wife!”

“No, I am not,” agrees Sakura, looking away questioningly, as if there is someone there watching that she cannot see. “But I am your friend.”

Hinata laughs bitterly at that. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?” she asks, still staring at her hands. “We’re not just friends.”

“We’re not?” Sakura asks, frowning.

“Don’t play dumb, Sakura! We’ve been f-flirting with each other! I know there’s something there, more than friendship, and it’s not right!”

Sakura is quiet for a very long time. Or maybe it’s only seconds, but to Hinata it feels like an eternity.

“What makes you say that?” she finally asks.

“Naruto heard us…talking… I don’t know about you, but I –” she takes a deep breath, “I know there’s something here. Between us. That I’m not making up. And I – I tried to, to push this down inside of me, but, but, if someone else can hear us talking, and know, then it must be real. I know I can’t be alone in this, and I –” she shuts her mouth. She’s rambling.

“Okay,” says Sakura, slowly. 

“Okay?” says Hinata angrily. “Is that all you can say? I just admitted feelings for you, I just told you our marriages are going to be ruined because we – I –”

“Hinata,” Sakura starts, placatingly. “Of course I return those feelings for you! I hadn’t thought – I hadn’t dreamed that you could – but I do, and it’s not wrong, it’s not, I’ve been this way my whole life, and –”

Sakura inhales sharply. She reaches out to take her hand.

“Sakura!” Hinata jerks away. “Don’t you understand? I hurt Naruto and– and my marriage is going to be over!”

“What did Naruto say to you?”

“He said he needed to know, and I told him how I feel for you. And he left and slept in the guest bedroom,” Hinata admits tearfully.

“Hinata, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“How is it okay?” Hinata cries, tears pooling in her eyes and threatening to spill over. “How is any of this – I love him, Sakura! And I suppose you don’t care about Sasuke? He’s going to find out too! They’re best friends! Naruto will tell him, and then you too – we never should have done this! We never should have –” she’s breathing heavily, nearly hyperventilating, tears falling.

“Never should have had feelings? Hinata, Hinata. Look at me,” she says, standing up and backing herself against her desk, speaking in her calm, doctor voice. “Look at me, please.”

Hinata does look up at that, the earnestness in Sakura’s voice drawing her eyes from her lap to meet Sakura’s.

“Naruto has no reason to be upset,” she says, grimacing as she does _._ _Why?_ Hinata wonders. And how is that even possible?

“What are you saying? His wife may as well be a cheat! He is going to become Hokage, and his wife is a cheating...lesbian! I have shamed him, just as I have shamed my family,” Hinata moans desperately, hurt and shame burning her face like a brand. She is bright red and teary and pulsing with pain.

_ “He _ is a cheat, Hinata!” she says, voice surprisingly loud and firm. She quickly forms the seals for a ninjutsu that blocks the sound from leaving the room. Hinata’s ears pop with the shift. “He is a cheat.”

“W-what? What are you saying? What don’t you understand, Sakura? He–he  _ heard _ us talking like that, it must’ve been  _ obvious _ how I felt–”

“Naruto is sleeping with Sasuke, Hinata! He’s there right now. Fucking my husband.”

Hinata could have heard a senbon fall in the silence that follows. Her tears seem to stop as shock overcomes her, overcomes her whole body, the set of her shoulders going rigid and her mouth slack. She looks back up at Sakura, pleading in her eyes.

“You’re lying,” she says, a strange, horrible fire building in her that she can’t stop, that she doesn’t want to stop. “You’re lying, you’re lying! You’re lying so that this is okay!”

“I am not lying,” Sakura says grimly, gripping the edge of her desk. “This is what the very foundation of my marriage with Sasuke is built upon.”

Hinata’s fire explodes momentarily, then shakes. Confusion overtakes it. “What do you mean? Explain, please. Explain.”

Sakura sighs. “Sasuke is a gay man, Hinata. I am a gay woman. We do not love each other. At least, not in that way.”

None of this makes sense. Hinata can’t stop herself from shouting. “You’re married! You are married to him, you’re trying for a child! You just told me!”

“We both needed to hide, and he wants to repopulate his clan. Our other teammate thought it would just be the greatest if we got together,” Sakura says, her voice going higher and sarcastic. “Sasuke could never say no to him. And I could never say no to my family. My team is my family, Hinata. They are idiots, but I’ve fought with and fought for them since I was 12 years old and I love them both.”

“I don’t understand. You’re in love with Sasuke, you always have been.”

“No,” says Sakura, a sad smile on her face. “Not like that. Not for a long time, probably not ever. There is something very particular to knowing you are not...right. The easiest and safest way to hide is to make your love for a boy that will never love you back very, very apparent.”

“How did you know Sa – how did you know he was...like you?” Hinata asks.

“Like us.” Hinata’s cheeks color. “He stopped a war for Naruto, Hinata. Twice. He could have killed him more than once, he could have given into his hatred and ended the world. Instead, he came back to us, to a village where he is hated, to exist in the same space as Naruto. That is more than friendship.”

“It’s brotherhood.”

“No,” Sakura says. “It is romantic love.”

“No,” says Hinata, shaking her head. “No, Naruto doesn't love Sasuke like that.”

“Don’t be so ignorant!” Sakura chides, her voice raised now despite her earlier calm. “He chased Sasuke for years! He has felt this way since we were genin!”

“He loves me!”

“I’m not denying that, Hinata, it is possible to love more than one person at a time. Or even to have feelings about more than one person at a time. You just told me how you feel about me.”

Hinata looks away. The red, pulsing feeling returns. She wants to shove it down, to make it as though none of this has happened, as though these feelings Sakura is talking about don’t exist at all. “That doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, you sound like your husband! It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t –”

“How long, Sakura?”

“How long, what?”

“How long has Naruto been...cheating on me? If this is really true. Did this start recently?”

Sakura is silent, and Hinata doesn’t back away from holding her stare. Her eyes feel clearer than they have any right to be.

“Since we were seventeen,” Sakura reluctantly admits. “I didn’t find out until later. But it has been happening since the war ended.”

“For...four years...at least?”

“Yes. Hinata, I’m so sorry.”

“I just – I just saw Sasuke yesterday! I saw him in the park! I was nice to him! I tried to be kind, he’s so demonized by this village, and I try to be kind, and – he knew! He knew my husband was cheating on me, he must think I’m so  _ stupid, _ he must have felt so bad for me, how long had it been since he had been with my husband? Was he just with him just before he saw me? Was he?”

“Hinata –”

Hinata doesn’t get angry often. Even now, when she can be said to have temper, she doesn’t get truly angry, not in a way that comes out in her words. But right now she can barely hold it back. Years of insecurity and feelings of confusion rise like bile in her throat. Years of  _ rage _ at  _ always being the last on everybody’s list, always at the bottom of the barrel.  _ In all her life, Hinata has never been anybody’s first priority, until Naruto. Except of course not, of fucking  _ course _ not, she wasn’t– had never been–

“Can you fuck me, Sakura? Right now. Can you please– I need–”

She’s off the couch and stradling Sakura now, leaning over her so that Sakura has to sit back on her desk, her arms instinctually coming around Hinata’s. Doubt flashes across her face and it just makes Hinata  _ burn _ . 

“No, Hinata, this isn’t what you need right now.”

“Don’t tell me what I need,” she leans close, close to Sakura’s lips –  _ god, _ her lips – “don’t think, Sakura-chan.”

“Hinata, Hinata, this isn’t –”

“Don’t  _ tell _ me!” Hinata says coldly, pushing herself off of Sakura. The world shifts as her Byakugan activates. She can’t help it now, even her body is out of her own control. “First, my father tells me I am not good enough. And I need to be better. Then, my cousin. Then, the village. My sister. Everybody. And then I needed to be a good wife to Naruto. And now, I need–”

Angry tears cloud her vision and spill over her cheeks. 

“Hinata, I have feelings for you, but I– we shouldn’t do this while you’re so upset, please,” Sakura starts sadly. Hinata can feel how badly she wants to make it all better, but it’s not enough. Nothing is enough for this. “Let’s. Let’s get out of here, let’s go back to your house. I think you’ll feel more comfortable there, and we– we can confront–”

“No!” Hinata interrupts her with a shout. It makes Sakura recoil, all the way down to her chakra, and Hinata does her best to calm her face and repeat herself less forcefully. “No, I don’t want to confront Naruto. I want him to tell me himself. He should tell me himself. I want to act like nothing's wrong, and I want him to–”

“People don’t always give you what you want.” There is challenge in Sakura’s voice, but it’s softened by the tenderness in her eyes, still present after Hinata’s outburst. She’s upset, maybe even scared, but she’s still being honest with her. That has to count for something. 

“No,” agrees Hinata. “But I will give him the opportunity to try.” It’s as much as he gave her. “Now please,” she says, suddenly feeling years older and tired, so goddamned tired, “take me home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOF. Last chapter tomorrow! We are in the middle of working on the next part of the series, and are hoping to post the second work by the end of February.
> 
> We've already addressed this, but, just to stress: there is NO resolution for our four mains in THIS work. This serves as an opening act to a much longer work that is coming. Just don't want that to be a surprise with the last chapter coming tomorrow!
> 
> As always, many thanks for the kudos & comments - they mean more to us than you know! <3


	7. Sasuke Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, at 5pm after work on Friday: ahhh, finally the weekend  
> Me, at 8pm after work on Friday, while at the bar: OH FUCK I GOTTA POST...luckily this bar has internet
> 
> SORRY for the late post, haha!!
> 
> Last chapter! Hope you all enjoy! We really appreciate everyone who has kudos'd and commented - and will get back to your comments ASAP!

**Chapter 7: Sasuke Again**

A knock at the door comes, urgently, and he’s sure it’s Naruto. No one else who would knock like that comes to this house, to interact with the demon of Konoha and his poor wife. But even for Naruto to show up here is rare. They’d taken to haunting empty classrooms and unused offices in Hokage tower, rutting against trees deep in the Forest of Death. It isn’t always pleasant, but it also isn’t dirtying his clean house.

Sasuke gets ready for the knock to sound a third time, finally putting away his ink and makes his way over to the door when it bursts open before he can reach it, Naruto barreling through after it.

He’s disheveled, his face is redder than normal and his eyes are set in manic determination, narrowing for a moment when they meet Sasuke’s.

“I need–” he starts, grunts, placing a hand on Sasuke’s chest and pushing him back toward the couch. “I need to fuck you. Please.”

Sasuke opens his mouth to reply but thinks the better of it. He can give this to Naruto. It’s enough, it has to be.

He nods silently and sits back on the couch, back hitting the arm uncomfortably. He ignores the thump as he pulls up his yukata and spreads his legs. Naruto is brash and demands answers for everything, but this is the one unspoken agreement between them, the one thing he hasn’t pressed about; they won’t fuck on Sasuke’s bed, they won’t even enter the bedroom.

Naruto’s fingers are in him before he can do anything, scissoring in and out like they had when they’d been 17 and inexperienced and fucking for the first time, just eager to feel close to each other. He kisses like that now, too, mashing his teeth into Sasuke’s lips and biting down in a way that lacks the restraint he normally manages to hold.

“You’ve already fucked yourself today, Sas?” he asks, feeling the way his hole is already stretched, the way he’d stood under the spray of the shower earlier and fingered himself, thinking about a Naruto that stayed and held him through the night.

“Hn.” He wants to make a jab about not having any other goddamn way to occupy his time, but he bites his tongue and lets Naruto continue his work. His fingers are dry and it doesn’t feel good, but Sasuke is good at compartmentalizing, especially about sex.

“Need you to ride me,” Naruto grits out, his hands coming around Sasuke’s waist and jerking him on top of himself, his pants pushed down around his thighs. He deposits Sasuke on his lap as he gets his cock out, stroking it once, twice, it’s already hard and even leaking, and Sasuke uses his hand to brace himself on Naruto’s shoulders, lifting himself up and sitting on Naruto’s cock. “Yeah, baby, like that.”

He fucks Sasuke like it’s a mission, lifting him up and down in a way that lacks Naruto’s unhinged care that normally goes into the thrusts, and Sasuke can’t ask him why but he can make himself available like this, and so he rests his head on Naruto’s shoulder and allows himself to be filled up, moans and keeps his mouth shut.

Naruto is oddly silent, none of his usual banter filling the air between the slap of skin on skin, the _ah, ahs_ that Sasuke lets out as Naruto rams into his prostate over and over or the grunts Naruto makes as he digs his fingers into Sasuke’s hips.

That will bruise, he thinks, and Sakura will run her skilled hands over them when they dress for bed tonight, healing them with a silent look.

Sasuke is finally feeling like he may be close to an orgasm, pleasure creeping in from the repeated motion and the simplicity of Naruto’s presence, when an odd sniffling sound joins the litany of moans.

Sasuke lifts his head off Naruto’s shoulder to pull back and look him in the eyes, the blue of his irises strangely bright with red surrounding them, shiny with tears pooling in the corners and making their way down his face.

“Usuratonkachi, are you crying?”

Naruto raises his head to look at Sasuke, removing one of his hands from Sasuke’s hips to wipe at his eyes but continuing his thrusting motions. He doesn’t say anything and so Sasuke ignores it, doing what he can by sitting on Naruto’s cock and letting himself be fucked. The silence is unnerving, though, so he opens his mouth again to ask, “You want to stop?”

“I think Hinata is cheating on me,” Naruto blurts.

“You want to stop?” Sasuke asks again, his voice drier, and if anyone would notice the slight shift in tone it would surely be Naruto. He doesn’t comment on it, though, his mouth pressed into a thin line, his hands clenching onto Sasuke as if he is the only thing keeping a dam from breaking. And likely, he is.

“Why, Sas?” he asks, and he sounds pathetic and broken. Sasuke regards him like he is a genin seeing real battle for the first time, leaning back as if he is delicate and not buried inside of him, twitching at the way the movement sends a jolt up through his body. He lets Naruto continue, his words would be useless here. “She doesn’t love me?”

Sasuke doesn’t think this is true, but he doesn’t comment as much, perhaps because he wishes it was. It’s one of the thoughts he tries to rid himself of with his carefully curated routine: it doesn’t lend much time to ruminating. Except for when it does, and then he ends up with his fingers inside himself and getting dangerously close to the locked chest inside of himself that holds his emotions surrounding those most dear to him.

“Say something!” Naruto says, his voice on the edge of angry and hysterical.

“Who with?”

Naruto gapes at him, but Sasuke simply arches a sculpted eyebrow: if he’s going to demand he talks, he’s not going to get the words he wants to hear. Naruto has dealt with Sasuke long enough to understand this, and eventually, he relents.

“I think...well. I overheard her talking to Sakura-chan...and I could just tell...so I asked her, and she said...” he sniffles, wiping at his eyes again. “She says that she wants her. Like that. _Hinata._ My own _wife._ Sakura-chan is a _woman!”_

Sasuke lets his forehead fall back into Naruto’s shoulder at that to hide a bitter smile. Sakura. He had hoped – she was so very alone, and it was the one thing that was of comfort in their sham of a marriage, the cup they both drank from, their loneliness. And as he had a way to partially fill that void, he had wanted the same for her. That Naruto would find fault with that is only proof of his ignorance.

“How could she do this to me?” Naruto asks, voice hitching on the last word. His cock is still hard, buried in Sasuke’s ass. The selfish fucking bastard.

“How?” asks Sasuke, the word coming out biting and sharp. He loved Naruto, but sometimes it was easy to remember why he had spent years running away from him. The emotional capacity of a child. The understanding of relationships as if he was still the genin Sasuke had first been placed on a team with.

Naruto nods, leaning in to nose at Sasuke’s neck, but Sasuke jerks back. He would never be the one person on Naruto’s mind, he would never be the proud spouse at his side as he accepted his Hokage robes and he would never walk through the marketplace on Naruto’s arm, and that was fine. He didn’t want those things, he just wanted the possibility of them, and the pain of knowing it was impossible was exquisite and relieving in its cruelty. His repentance.

But to ask this of him, for Naruto to be this selfish, after years of having his cake and eating it too, he wants to prevent his wife from enjoying her own happiness? No, that is not how this works.

“Do you really think she would have been with you if it hadn’t been her cousin’s dying wish for her? If it wasn’t her best way to rid herself of her clan’s politics?”

It’s mean. It’s probably one of the meaner things he’s said, flowery soliloquies about wanting to break their bond included, but he is hurt and he has never learned defense mechanisms that don’t involve a blade. He was a happy child and then he was a traumatized adult, and no one ever teaches a broken thing how to mend itself.

“How –” Naruto starts, open mouthed and staring in disbelief.

“No, you didn’t. Of course you didn’t.”

Naruto closes his mouth with a snap, finally softening inside of Sasuke, his hand runs down his cheek as the tears continue to flow, but he doesn’t apologize, or offer an explanation.

“Get out. Get out of my house,” Sasuke says, looking down at where his hand is placed on Naruto’s stomach. He braces himself and heaves himself off, steadying himself on his knees before standing up. “Go ask your wife to be unhappy, since I am clearly not enough.”

Sasuke stumbles backwards onto the couch and sits for several moments after Naruto walks out of the door with a dumb look on his face, his own face in his hand. His temper sits ugly, hot in his belly, void of a target now that he has sent it out the door.

Stupid. Fucking stupid, Naruto is so fucking _stupid,_ and he feels nothing more than like he wants to press his hands together and form the seals that feel like home no matter how long it has been since he had one, to emit his anger in the form of a flame and burn it all fucking down.

Sasuke supposes he doesn’t have any place to comment on one’s selfishness, but about _this,_ he knows he has authority.

He’s on his feet before he realizes it, pacing the length of the house back and forth, imagining his bare feet pounding a path of destruction into the floor as he goes. Really, he snorts to himself, he should commiserate with Hinata, and then they can discuss at length what it’s like to be in love with someone who is too worried about receiving love to give you more than a sliver of their capable affection.

The difference, of course, he thinks as he methodically gathers dishes Sakura had left on the counter before running to work that morning, is that Hinata actually deserves all of Naruto’s love. He, after everything, did not. And while he had accepted the fact that to atone he must sit idly by in this village that he hated and let it continue to exist, because people that he cared for were in it, he did not delude himself about what he deserved.

He is sitting in this house, he does _nothing,_ he lets himself be thought upon as a demon and broken and he lets Naruto be revered, because he knows _exactly_ what he fucking deserves.

But for Naruto to begrudge his wife happiness? He did not care for Hinata, but if anyone were to take on the great burden of Naruto’s love, it should not be her.

His hand shakes, and he is in the upstairs bathroom, breathing loud in the silence of the house. Through the obfuscated glass of the window, he can barely make out the shape of the vines that curl over Sakura’s trellis. That is her domain, and this is his. His hand grips around the metal of his razor, nails digging into his palm, hard enough to break skin if they weren’t so blunted.

Water and cream splashed onto his face, he runs the razor over his chin in slow, even strokes, ridding himself of the nonexistent hair there. He cannot control anything in his god-forsaken life except for how he looks. Not his marriage, he thinks, as he places the razor under his left stump and then moves to curl it awkwardly under his right arm and then to his groin, no, that had been a forcible situation from all sides; his best friend, a teammate holding the same terrible secret, and a damned society. Not his occupation, he thinks, as his fingers shake on a pair of tweezers, yanking out the offending hairs around the arch of his thin eyebrows. And not who he’s in love with, he thinks, stepping under the scalding stream of his shower before scrubbing himself down, letting the water pound into his back to the point where he can think of anything but Naruto.

Sakura and Hinata, that could be something wonderful. After all of the pain she had endured at his hand, it was what she deserved. And yet, he thinks, stepping out of the shower and running lotion over his legs, over his face, dragging his hand through his hair, he is jealous. He is jealous because if they were to sleep together, he knows they would fall in love, and it would be simple.

* * *

Sakura comes home from the hospital late and stressed, her mood noticeable in the set of her shoulders and the thin press of her lips. She had been coming home happier recently, something he now realizes must be due to her interactions with Hinata. But tonight, she is unhappy. He doubts it is the other woman, and he doubts Naruto has said something to her. But the hospital is the hospital, he supposes, and there’s bound to be days that test her patience. That’s fine, he’s been in a sour mood since he unceremoniously forced Naruto out of the house earlier, and he doesn’t have it in him to keep of the pretense of a conversation tonight.

He has dinner waiting on the table, he always does, and they eat in silence. He has half a mind to ask her about things with Hinata, but a louder part of his mind stops him. This is their pact. They don’t speak of this. Saying things out loud makes them real.

“Let’s go to bed,” she says, and he nods in agreement. In sleep, he doesn’t have to think about the nightmare that is his waking life. At least conceptually. His dreams have other ambitions.

* * *

“Sasuke, Sasuke, wake up. Wake up,” comes a voice, and it’s Sakura. He melts into the touch of her hand on his shoulder, the overwhelming gratefulness that comes before he remembers to recoil away from it flowing through him. He hates his marriage and he hates this life, but he will forever send thanks to whatever ambivalent god is watching over his sick existence that his wife will share a bed with him.

He knows that she is a veteran just as he is, and the comfort is for her benefit as much as his, but he will allow himself to find a small light in the darkness of his marriage.

He cranes his neck over his shoulder to look at her, his bangs flopping over his eyes and he can barely see her in the dim light, but there is the look of concern on her face, ready to heal, like always.

“It was just a nightmare,” she’s saying. “Just a bad dream.”

“I know,” he grits out, yanking the bedsheets over his sweaty chest aggressively. Then, softer, “I know.” She is just trying to help.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks. She always asks. He never tells.

“No,” he says, turning back away. He does not want to talk about it. He does not want to think about it. He wants to be held. He wants his mother. He wants a lot of unattainable things and he does not know how to stop placing his pain on Sakura.

“Okay,” she says wearily, going to turn out the small light she must have flicked on when he started twitching, his unconscious tell. She has done this enough times that he knows she knows the moment he goes from dreaming to living through the worst moments of his short, pitiful life.

“Sakura,” he says before she can turn and go back to sleep. “You’re seeing Hinata.”

He doesn’t pose it like a question, although he means it like one. Naruto was always jumping to conclusions, and despite what his lover might say, he does not think he has all of the facts.

“What?” she asks, incredulously. “Who said that?”

“Naruto,” he admits, quietly. This is already the longest conversation they’ve had in months. “He was here earlier. He says Hinata is having an affair.”

He can still make out a bit of her face, the moonlight highlighting the slope of her nose, the height of her cheekbones and the whites of her eyes. Her face looks comically shocked, and a part of him wants to laugh, although he does not let himself.

“Sasuke-kun, I –” she starts, takes a deep breath. “I would never. I find Hinata – I. Yes, she is the kind of woman I might...be with.”

She looks deeply uncomfortable, the kind that he hasn’t seen on her face since he left Konoha when he was 12 years old. He doesn’t blame her – they don’t talk about this, ever. Even now, he wants to tell her to stop, but he has been hostile to her enough times. He won’t offer any comfort, but he will keep his mouth shut. She seems to sense this, and continues.

Her cheeks color, and she shuts her eyes. “She loves Naruto. She’s married to him, and I – I won’t.”

“Why should that matter?” he asks bitterly, before he can stop himself. “It certainly doesn’t for him.”

This is the first Sasuke has spoken of his and Naruto’s relationship directly to her, but she is safe. If he can’t speak to her, then who?

“Sasuke-kun, you know I didn’t mean it...like that.”

“You’ve always been a better person than I have.”

“Don’t say that.”

He rolls over. “You know it’s true.”

“Don’t be so self-pitying.”

In another world, he would have fought her on the spot for saying that. As it is, he simply presses his mouth into a thin line, and says nothing.

“Sorry...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says shortly. “You may want to confront him before he does something rash.”

“Okay,” she answers, voice small. He feels her shift behind him.

“Sakura,” he says, feeling like the words are being ripped from his chest. “I think. It would be nice. If you...saw Hinata.”

If she answers him, he does not hear it. He is too busy screwing his eyes shut and sending up fruitless prayers that another nightmare will not plague him when he goes back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! Hope you all enjoyed Work I of Essence of a Flower Bloom! We're hard at work on Work II and hope to be posting by the end of February!
> 
> Kudos and comments are more appreciated than you know! Thank you so much for reading! <3


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